No Relationship Is Easy
by WriKai
Summary: Cas is ok, for now, but Crowley has me under his thumb. I know magic isn't something to be toyed with, but it saved the brothers and Cas before, and I don't see a good reason to not continue with it... Besides the fact that the King of Hell wants me to continue. Part of a series, Cas/OC, highly suggest Believing in the Impossible first and going from there!
1. 3 Calls

I got three calls in succession, maybe five days after arriving at the Bunker. The first was from Cas; we called each other every day, at least once, to check in. This time…

We hadn't talked yet, and I was about to dial his number when I stopped, feeling sudden pain. It was in my abdomen, my chest, my hands, everywhere all at once. I had doubled over in pain, coughing and sputtering and…

There was blood.

I was coughing up blood.

When I puked, there was blood in it, too. "Oh God." I muttered, realizing what this meant, what it had to mean. "No, Cas, CAS!" I closed my eyes, trying to focus on him, focus on sending him more.

 _Take whatever you need, please, however much will save you,_ I willed in my head. _Take it all, if you need to. Just stay alive, please. Please stay alive._

I fell to the ground, barely keeping myself on my hands and feet. I felt awful, absolutely awful. The pain was worst in my heart, like it was ripping and tearing and bludgeoning different pieces out. I grasped at it, just almost keeping myself from falling face-first to the floor. I punched myself in the heart, once, as hard as I could.

"Come on, DAMMIT!" I shouted to the air. "Just LIVE! Take everything from me, please, but just LIVE DAMMIT! STAY ALIVE!"

I screamed as white-hot pain engulfed me, and suddenly… Suddenly I wasn't there anymore. I wasn't in the Bunker.

I was in a gas station, somewhere. There was this woman, another angel… She was beating the crap out of me. Off to the side, I could barely see Hannah. Why was Hannah here? She was hurt, injured, not moving.

I could feel blood on my face, on my body. The woman, the one beating the crap out of me, she was shouting and saying something and I was going to die.

This was it.

I was going to die, and I wouldn't get to say goodbye.

 _I'm sorry, Kylie._ The thought wasn't my own, and came to me unbidden.

"Kill me." The voice wasn't mine, but it was familiar.

It was Castiel's.

I heard Hannah, suddenly awake next to me, crying out for the angel to stop. "'Stop,' 'kill me,'" the random angel smiled and shook her head. She looked like she was enjoying vengeance. "I mean, so many suggestions, I don't know what to do. I know!" Her face lit up with an awful glee. "I will kill you, Castiel." That wasn't a threat. That was a promise. "But very, very slowly so that your… your new honeybunch can watch." She motioned to Hannah. "Great step up from the human, by the way. All of us were happy when you stopped being a cordziz hoath." She sighed. "Too bad you won't live long enough to enjoy the upgrade."

She kicked me in the chest, through a glass door, and I landed on the grass outside. I felt worse, absolutely worse. More bloody and bruised and broken somewhere and… And I was coughing up blood again. When I looked up, I saw a pair of black dress shoes walking on the grass towards me.

Black dress shoes connected to black slacks, a black coat, and… And a demon.

Crowley.

"Hey champ, look at you." He commented, offering a pitiful smile. "Talk about roadkill."

He walked away, disappearing in to what I figured was the gas station. He walked back out not long later, with a vial of…

Was that angel grace?

Why was a demon giving me angel grace?

I shied away from it, and felt another thought that wasn't mine. _No. Not again. I can't do that again._

"Don't be an idiot." Crowley told me. "Yes, it's hers, but she was killing your mistress. Your hands are clean. As much as it pains me to say this … You're useless to me, and your actual girlfriend, dead."

 _She wouldn't want me to die._ I felt my mouth open after that thought, and the new stolen grace entered as easily as though it actually belonged, though with a slightly… _off_ taste to it.

I heard Crowley's voice, stating that I owed him, before I was flung back in to my own body with a burst of white light.

And I was back in the Bunker, on the floor, in immense amounts of absolute pain. The scar on my hand was bright red, pulsating with… A mixture of white in it as the area absolutely burned.

Then literally burned. I watched the scar catch on fire, my head spinning and mouth dry and I was certain I was hallucinating until I smelled skin burning.

And actually felt the new pain from fire.

On stumbling feet, I ran in to different objects as I tried to get to the kitchen, to a sink, to anything with running water.

There was a can of soda on the table. I grabbed it and threw it on my hand, quickly, but the fire on my hand was out the second it hit the flames.

All that was left then was a blackened mark, almost like a tattoo, in place of the scar.

That was when I got a call from Cas, my phone ringing as loud as it could and I could barely hear it. I fumbled with my cell, grasping a chair to sit in that I instead used to lower me to the ground. "Cas?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"Kylie," his voice was strong, relieved, and immeasurably less frail than it had been even yesterday. "I am sorry. I am very sorry."

And then he told me about how he'd been out with Hannah, trying to help figure out angel problems. He was on his way back to the Bunker to help Sam with Cas, and wanted to surprise me. He was with Hannah. She'd called him to help, and he'd gone even though he'd been sick.

He'd inhaled angel grace.

He wasn't dying, at least not now.

"Did…" I did my best to clear my head, to not stutter. "Did Crowley get you the grace?"

"How did you know?" He asked. I took a breath.

"Call it a hunch." I answered. "I'll… I'll explain when you get here."

"Alright, but Kylie," he sounded so much more relieved and, well… alive. "I love you. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner that I had left, but I love you, and I'm alive, and I'm going to be there soon, alright?" I smiled, trying my best to not fall asleep at the table. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Cas." I told him. "You… You don't have to apologize for anything. I…" I took a deep breath. "I've got something to tell you, when you get here. It… It's important."

"Are you alright?" He asked, concern coloring his voice.

"Are you alright?" I asked in response.

"Yes." He told me. "And I will be even better when I am at the Bunker with you."

"Then I'm alright too." I agreed. "And I'll be better when you're here and I can stop…" My voice trailed off, and I searched for the right words.

"I'll be there soon." He promised, and I could hear the understanding in his voice.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

And the line went dead.

The last call happened maybe two minutes after that, though, from a number I didn't recognize.

"Kai's sea shack, no relation to Joe's crab shack, this is Kai." I said automatically.

"Ah, charming as ever." A very British voice said on the other end. I woke up a little bit more.

"How in the hell did you get my number?" I asked.

"I'm Crowley, my dear." He reminded me. "The King of Hell always has connections."

"Whatever it is you want, I'm hanging up either way."

"The message was for you." He stated, and I decided to not hang up.

"What message?"

"You owe me." He answered. I felt my blood go cold. "Funny thing about siphon spells, whenever the person siphoning off you is about to die, and you're about to die," Crowley paused, and I was damn certain it was only for a dramatic effect. "You see through the eyes of the person you're connected to."

"What's your point?"

"My mother was a witch, darling." He told me. "I know when there's more than one person watching me, and I know what that scar on his hand was for. Tell me," I took a glance at the scar on my own hand. "How did it feel when that angel grace shoved you right out of him and back in your own body?"

I didn't answer, and he kept talking.

"So I saved your boyfriend, which I do believe deserves a thank you, and I kept your little secret, because I doubt he would've hesitated if he knew."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Keep tabs on Dean for me and how he… changes." He requested.

"Is that all?"

"For now." His response made my blood run cold. "You're interesting now, Kylie. Keep up the work with your magic."

"And if I refuse?"

"Who said the bond between you and Cas was broken?" He asked.

"You wouldn't dare."

"I'm the King of Hell, child," he stated. "I'm the daringest devil you'll ever meet."


	2. Seeing Cas Again

Dean was cured, thanks to Castiel and Sam. I hadn't really helped out, I hadn't particularly been "allowed" to. Sam didn't want Dean to tempt me in to slapping him (which was a very tempting thought overall), and then, you know, Dean almost killed me, so I kept my distance.

Yeah. Only way I got away from him was because the damn freezing spell worked on him, but not for long. I'd gotten lucky, though. The knockout one with chamomile hadn't done jack shit, besides make him sneeze.

If I hadn't thought fast while he was laughing, there would've been a meat cleaver in the side of my skull.

But no, Cas made it back in time, and together they cured him. I didn't bother pretending the ordeal didn't phase me, it had, but with everything else that was going on…

I was starting to get desensitized.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked me, once it was all over. I nodded.

"I'm fine, don't worry." We were alone, in the hallway outside of…. I think it was my room? But really, couldn't they both just be considered "our rooms" now?

Nah. We didn't have clothes in each other's rooms yet, or toothbrushes or anything. Cas had a bottle of my face cleaning soap stashed in his room, but that was about it.

But that was when I realized something important. Since Cas had come, for the first time… We were alone. We were in a hallway together, alone, and had both gone through so much stress.

We both realized that at nearly the exact same time, to the point where I didn't have a chance to figure out who moved first. Suddenly it was hands in my hair, hands in his hair, the door being opened and Cas gracefully (pun very much so intended) closing it behind us with a quick kick; he'd almost died, and me with him. I'd almost been killed by his best friend.

We needed each other.

We just needed each other.

And Hannah, whoever was left bless her, managed to understand that. She took a spare room, just to relax and have space in, so that we could have our space.

But eventually, we broke apart from heavenly makeouts to whispering sweet things and kissing to talking about important things, being honest, with little things here and there.

"I want to get away." Castiel said eventually. That caused me to look up at him, curious. "Another date, if you will, but for longer. A week, perhaps, maybe more."

"Really?" I asked him, giving him a little smile. He didn't smile back at me, though, in the normal playful way we'd created. His face was serious, determined, like how it had been when we'd first planned the apartment. "Alright, really." I sat up straighter, ready to listen. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere that is… Not the Bunker." He answered. "Where have you always wanted to go?"

"Well…" I thought for a moment. "I… I don't really know." I hadn't actually thought about the idea of getting away from Hunting, hadn't thought it was possible, really. I'd kind of almost pushed the idea of an apartment aside as a happy fantasy, like world peace or it raining chocolate squares. "Somewhere sunny, I guess. Somewhere with a beach or a lake or just somewhere I can swim and get some sun with you," I thought about it, earning that far-off look Castiel got sometimes when he was deep in thought. "Somewhere with those stupid camera booth things, right, so we can do the classic camera booth couple thing, and an area we can walk around in a lot and explore and just enjoy. Somewhere…. Somewhere away from all of this." I motioned around me. "Away from Dean the Rehabilitating Demon and Sam the Obsessed Brother and ghosts and ghouls and vampires and all of that. Somewhere where we can just be Kylie and Cas, you know?" I asked him. "Just two people that are dating and that love each other and that want to spend time on a getaway vacation together."

"Alright." He thought about that. "Where have you never been before?"

"That's a tough question." I thought about it. "State-wise, it's slim pickings. I did my fair share of traveling as homeless, even went across to Canada once or twice just to see if it was any better, you know? I've never been to Maine or New England or Rhode Island, but that's mostly because it's seriously cold up there and there aren't as many towns to get food or warm clothing in, so I decided against it personally. And as for Michigan, I've been trying to avoid it on principle, you know? But other than that," I shrugged. "I think I've been to the majority of the continental U.S."

"What about outside of it?"

"What, like, to Hawaii?" I laughed. "Airfare is expensive, Cas, and we're car-bound."

"I just wanted to ask." He said defensively. I rubbed his arm thoughtfully.

"We'll save up for Hawaii." I promised. He continued to think for a few minutes before spit balling other ideas for other states, places, things, etc. It was kind of fun, thinking about this. A week away, just the two of us, to relax and go do couply things and enjoy each other instead of fearing for the other's safety.

Then Castiel changed the subject.

"What did you want to tell me?" The sudden conversation shift confused me, momentarily.

"What?"

"On the phone, you said there was something you wanted to say." I did my best to keep my emotions hidden as he reminded me of that. I was enjoying talking with him, enjoying being with him, just enjoying HIM.

"It's getting late." I told him, taking a glance at the clock. "We should probably be going to sleep, don't you think?"

"I do not require sleep again." He reminded me.

"Oh. Oh yeah." I nodded, remembering that, but he smiled at me before continuing.

"However, I still would not mind sleeping beside you." He told me. I blushed a little bit, settling in beside him. I laid my hand on his chest, and my hand on his heart, as he wrapped an arm around me.

"Good night, Cas." I whispered, closing my eyes. Castiel reached over to turn off the lamp beside us.

"Good night, Kylie." He whispered back. I could feel him settling in as he normally would, even though he needed no sleep now.


	3. Guilt Is A Bitch

_There was a red light, pulsing and pulsing and pulsing as I looked around. The room was sparse, barren, and I…_

 _They say in dreams you can't feel pain, but if that was true then this was reality. Pain was everywhere, burning every inch of my body and scorching me from the inside out. I looked around, first at myself, and saw cuts and scrapes and breaks and jagged slices covering every inch of me. I was bleeding, and when I coughed, I coughed up more blood._

" _See, there's the thing." I heard a voice say from the darkness. When I looked over, I saw Crowley, with someone laying facedown behind him. The person behind the demon was in infinitely worse shape that I was, and looked like they were dying._

" _I don't have to lay a single finger on you." Crowley said, pulling out… An angel blade?_

 _Oh no._

 _Oh no no no no no._

" _All I have to do is find the right spots on this one," he motioned with the blade to the person behind him. "And I can literally kill two lovebirds with one blade! Isn't it wonderful?"_

 _I saw the coat._

 _It was torn, broken, bleeding._

 _I fell to the ground as Crowley sliced behind his ankles, unable to make my feet move._

" _Don't." I begged as he lifted up the head by the hair. It was Castiel's face, barely conscious and covered in blood and dirt._

" _I think I will," Crowley answered. "Unless you do as I say."_

 _I felt my heart tear itself from my chest as Crowley sliced across Castiel's throat._

I woke up with a start, sweating and breathing heavily as I patted myself down. I was fine. No blood. No cuts. No slices. No injuries.

No Cas.

He wasn't beside me. He wasn't near me at all. I looked around the room, and listened for his voice, for _any_ voice.

There.

Outside my room.

I could hear them, hear SOMEONE talking to another someone.

It was… Cas.

And Dean?

"Look, I just want to apologize to her." Dean said. "I… I know I said and did some pretty messed-up things, and I want to take a chance to just tell her I didn't mean them."

"Give her a chance to at least eat first." Castiel responded, his voice tired. "I know she will have no problem speaking with you, but it is still morning. Give her a minute to eat and wake up, and for you to collect your thoughts."

"Fair enough." Dean conceded. "What do you want me to do about the… Ah… Other angel? Does she know?"

"Yes. Hannah was wanting to speak with her this morning as well."

"And she doesn't mind…" Dean's voice trailed off.

"I do not know what she would have a problem with." Castiel answered. I fought back a sleepy snicker. "Is the food I made bad?"

"No, no, it'll be fine, don't worry!" Dean assured him. "You can never go wrong with eggs and toast."

"Good." Cas muttered. "Good."

I heard Dean pat Cas on the back. "She's lucky to have you." I could barely hear him say that, but I couldn't help but nod in agreeance as I heard Dean walk away.

Castiel walked in a few moments later, and I smiled. "He's right." I commented to him. "And you didn't have to make me breakfast, Cas."

"I wanted to." He answered, holding out a plate. Toast, eggs (with a little extra salt because that was how I liked them), and…

Was that a flower?

Yeah, it was a sunflower.

"Awwww." I took the plate from him with a smile, sitting up straighter. I snagged the flower and put the stem behind my ear, then turned to face him. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," Castiel answered, bending down to kiss me. If there was any sleepiness left in my body, it was quickly expelled by, well… CAS. "But that is normal, for how you look." He whispered against my lips.

"If you keep doing sweet stuff like that and saying such nice things I'm gonna let my eggs get cold." I muttered back, and felt him smile.

"Fair enough." He said, withdrawing. I smirked an awful smirk at him before reaching up to grab the lapels of his jacket and bring him in for a second kiss.

"Your eggs will get cold." He reminded me when I pulled away.

"Fair enough." I mimicked, this time allowing him to move and sit beside me. I ate my food quickly, not realizing how starving I had been until then.

"Are you too hot?" Castiel asked, noticing the dried sweat. I finished my food and put the plate to the side before answering.

"Nah." I shook my head, trying not to dwell on the dream. It had been much too vivid, too real. If I let myself get stuck on it, I'd be bothered by it and Crowley and the thought of Cas being hurt for the day.

"Was it…" Castiel chose his words carefully. "Another nightmare? I felt your distress before you woke up," he took a glance at the door. "I was actually going to wake you myself when Dean stopped me."

"Is he ok?" I changed the subject with as much ease as I could muster. I honestly did want to know how he was, but at the same time… I was procrastinating telling Cas the truth.

"Dean is, well…" Cas couldn't find the correct adjective. "Dean, so as far as I can tell he is as alright as he can be."

I nodded in agreeance. "There really isn't a good descriptive word to, well, describe Dean being himself, is there?"

"No, not really." He nodded, and we both laughed.

"So what was it?" I could hear the concern in his voice.

"What was what?"

"First, your dream that has unsettled you enough to make you want to not talk about it," Castiel started. "And then what it was you wanted to tell me last night but were also so unsure about."

"I… I…" I didn't know what to say. "Cas, before I tell you anything, I need you to know that I… I love you, alright? I love you, and I couldn't imagine a life without you; I don't think I could _make it_ through a life without you, ok?" His face dropped in to one of worry.

"Ok." He said slowly.

"And I don't want you to be mad, or worried, or guilty, or to freak out about anything, alright?" I continued.

"Kylie, what's wrong?" Castiel asked, clasping my hand lightly.

"Before Sam went and found Dean, before you and I left the Bunker and everything, something happened," I started to explain. I was about to continue when a knock was at our door.

"Kylie?"

It was Dean.

"Kylie, can we talk?"

I looked over at Cas, and gave him a small smile before a short kiss. "I'll finish telling you in a bit." I promised. As I got up out of bed, Castiel grabbed my wrist.

I was about to object when he flipped my hand over, exposing the palm of my hand to him.

The hand with the black mark in place of a scar.

Castiel stared up at me, shock and anger and confusion on his face as he took in the mark. When he held his own hand up to show me, I saw a matching black mark across his own palm.

He knew, now.

He absolutely knew.

And from the look on his face, this wasn't a good version of "he knows." This was the "what in the hell have you done" version.

The version that screws with trust and relationships, especially with me not telling him for so long.

" _I'm sorry_." I whispered, yanking my hand away as I went out to talk with Dean.


	4. Talking With Dean

"Hey, is everything alright?" Dean asked once I closed the door.

"Yeah, yeah," I didn't meet his eyes as I nodded. "Let's just… Go to another room or something, alright?"

"Hold on, tell me what's wrong." Dean argued. "You're wearing the same clothes as yesterday, you slept in them, and you look like something is wrong." I shook my head.

"Not right now, Dean."

"Is it…" He motioned to the door. "Is it something with Cas?"

"I'm not talking about this right now." I stated, my voice firm. "That's between me and him. So we're going to walk to a different room, you're going to tell me whatever it is you want to tell me, and we're going to leave it at that, alright?"

"No, not alright." Dean argued, moving a fist to bang on the door. I reacted without thinking, pulling out the chamomile from my pocket. This earned an eye from Dean, and a paused fist maybe an inch away from my door.

"I'll do it." I promised, holding it out in an open palm. "Four syllables and you're out like a light."

"That didn't work on me last time." He reminded me. I winced.

"You're not a demon anymore, as far as I know." I countered. He winced, once, before lowering his fist. In return, I put the chamomile back in a small pocket.

"Other room?" He asked. I nodded. "Alright."

So we walked over to one of the smaller study rooms in the Bunker, still filled to the brim with books, but also with tables and chairs to sit at. Dean diverted for a moment to grab a beer, but we both sat across from each other in the end – awkward silence being the most prominent thing in the room.

"What did you want to say?" I asked eventually. Dean took a large swig of his beer before answering.

"I'm sorry." He said, not even bothering to beat around the bush. "I'm sorry for disappearing, for putting you through any hell, for being so rude and I've got to say, your self-control on not slapping me was impressive." He smirked for a minute before continuing. "And I'm… I'm sorry for almost killing you. I, I feel awful about that, awful about abandoning Sam, awful about a lot of things." Dean shook his head, taking another swig. "I know Sam forgives me, as does Cas, but… I know you haven't been here with us as long as I've been with them, and I wouldn't feel right if I didn't make sure… Make sure things were cool between us, you know?" He motioned from himself to me and back with his hands. "So… Are we cool?"

"Dean, you weren't you when you did all that." I answered. "So yeah, we're cool."

"Yeah. Yeah!" He nodded before drinking more. "Great. This is just…" Dean shook his head. "No, no, no, this still isn't great, because you're what, nineteen?" I nodded. "And I tried to kill you, and you're cool with it? You're cool with me?"

"I guess I am, yeah." I shrugged. "Why? What's wrong with that?"

"You're a nineteen year old kid, dating a millennia old angel, and you're ok with your boyfriend's friend trying to kill you while a demon, like, the day after it happens?"

"Am I not supposed to be?"

"NO!" He threw his hands in the air. "I mean, damn, you're still a kid! You're not supposed to be ok with this shit!"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" I asked.

"I don't know, something pissy and angry that we can both apologize to each other over a few weeks later." He answered, for all the world sounding like a petulant child as he finished his beer.

"Is that what you and Sam do?" I asked.

"No." He muttered defensively. I felt a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth.

"So what do you want me to say and do, Dean?" I asked him. "I can't lie that it was terrifying, but… Nobody died." I said, shrugging again. "I didn't die. Sam didn't die. Cas didn't die. You didn't die. You were cured. I'd like to just, I don't know, take the win on that one for once."

"You sure?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure." I nodded, feeling more affirmed in my choice.

"Alright, then." Dean finished off his beer. "So," he let his voice trail off.

"What was it like?"

"What, being a demon?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Let's not talk about that." He requested. I agreed easily. He was allowed to have his privacy. "What was going on with you and Cas?"

"Let's not talk about that, either." I requested. He looked like he was about to argue, but decided against it.

"Alright. What about the magic thing?" He asked. "With the chamomile and the freezing and everything. When did you learn to do that?"

"While you were away." I answered. "Cas wasn't doing too well, and I was trying to look for you while keeping him as healthy as I could. I kind of just… Fell in to it, I guess." It was hard to explain. "It was something I could learn about and do to keep my mind out of stress when everything just got overwhelming. And then, after that, it was just useful to know some of the stuff for whenever I went out on leads with Sam or ran in to trouble in general. Sam hated it, though." Dean gave me a questioning look. "Hey, magic got you screwed over, as well as him with Gadreel. I couldn't blame him. Actually, he hated the thought of me fixing him up and healing him with it." I remembered the hellhound incident.

"Ah." Dean thought about that.

"What're your thoughts?"

"On your magic usage?" Dean thought for a moment. "I'll tell you, I'm not a big fan of witches, but you're going for the 'Master of Spells' thing, right?"

"Yeah."

"As long as you don't make a hidden fortress with monsters for pets, we're cool." He answered. I was shocked.

"Really?"

"It's the least I can do, with you being alright with us." He answered. "Cas seems cool with it, Sam seems cool with it now, anyways, so yeah." He nodded. "As long as you don't go nuts or witch with all the gross body parts and unsanitariness," I giggled for a moment at the scrunched up look of "ew" on his face. "Then I'm cool with it."

"Alright, then." I nodded along with him. "This how you felt when I said I was cool with you trying to kill me?"

"A mix of confusion, uncertainty, and lack of gratitude because we don't get lucky breaks?"

"Yep."

"Yep."


	5. My Two Biggest Problems Begin With C

I went outside, just needing a minute to figure out what to say to Cas. It was raining, the drops coming down thick and heavy. I considered staying by the door in what was probably the only dry spot outside for miles, but decided against it. I was going to take a shower later anyways.

So I took a few steps out until I was standing under the rain, almost instantly soaked to the bone and not really regretting it. "So what if I get a cold?" I muttered. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Well," I turned around to see Crowley leaning against a nearby tree. "You could be kidnapped."

"What do you want?" I ignored the possible threat.

"You felt guilty and decided to tell your angel boy here that you cast a spell, didn't you?"

"He's my boyfriend. He deserves to know."

"And he's going to be very, very, very… unhappy, you realize."

"I know."

"So why tell the poor bastard?" He asked, inching closer. I flicked my wrist and pulled out a blade, holding it loosely. Crowley held his hands up mockingly. "It's an honest question." When I didn't answer, though, he took a few more steps closer with a mocking smile. "Of course, that's not taking in to account the possibility of him already finding out himself, and from the looks of that mark I caught a glimpse of on your palm," I took a glance downwards. The hand holding the blade was the same that held the black mark. "I'm guessing he's got a matching one that he saw on you."

"What do you want?" I asked again.

"Why do you assume I want something."

"You're here."

"Like I said on the phone, you're interesting now. Whenever I make business associates, I like to meet them in person."

"I'm not a business associate."

"But you are." He argued. "After all, if you don't do as I ask, I have no quandary with using Cas to get to you. It'll be fun for me."

"Yeah, well, I've been thinking too." I bluffed. "And why would you heal Cas to only kill him later, in a pissing match you might have with me? Aren't you supposed to, you know, have strategy or something?"

"If he's not useful, then I have no problem killing him. Killing you would just be a bonus."

"But you said I'm interesting."

"Only if you're useful."

"And if I'm not useful, but Castiel is?"

"Who says Castiel is useful at all?"

"You healed him."

"So did you."

"He's my boyfriend."

"He's…." Crowley stopped, thinking, before he cracked another sarcastic smile. "Are we doing witty banter?"

"You're changing the subject."

"You're avoiding the question!" He countered.

"I may shank you, right now, in the rain, just on principal." I stated. "I know Dean and Sam wouldn't mind."

"Actually, Dean might mind a little bit." Crowley countered. "We were besties, after all."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Totally. Drinking buddies, foosball champions, compatriots in arms and whatnot." Crowley waved a hand. "We were bros, hoe."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna, you know," I raised up the blade to accentuate my point.

Crowley just smirked. "You couldn't if you wanted to."

"Try me."

"I would, but," we both stopped as we heard loud arguing from the door. Cas and the brothers were in a shouting match. "Ah. It seems as though your boy toy is done waiting for you. Keep up the magic work, I love what you're doing with it. Freezing Dean," I turned back to him in shock as he pinched his index finger and thumb together, raising the other three fingers to make the diver sign for "OK." "Excellent choice, considering how the chamomile spell didn't work. Personally, though, I would've gone for the Chinese fire spell on the, ah, what was it… A meat cleaver?" He wiggled his fingers at me as the arguing behind the door got louder. "Ta ta."

With a snap of his fingers, he was gone, and the door behind me opened. "KYLIE!" Cas shouted, full of righteous anger and rage.

"Hey, babe." I said nervously, facing Castiel.

"We are going to talk about this, Kylie!" He demanded, raising his palm. The black mark on his own stared down at me like an accusing grimace. "You cast a spell on me, one that bonded our souls!"

"You know what, you're damn right I did!" I answered, mustering up my courage. "And do you know why?"

"You made a decision for my health without consulting me!"

"You were about to die!"

"I was already like that!"

"YOU WEREN'T MOVING!" I screamed, feeling tears fall. "YOU WERE ON THE FLOOR, CAS! THERE WAS BLOOD AND VOMIT AND YOU WEREN'T MOVING!"

"AND YOU CHOSE TO BIND YOUR SOUL TO MINE?!" He sounded as though the very notion was an incredulous one.

"WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? LET YOU DIE?"

"I WAS PREPARED TO DIE!" He screamed. I stared at him, shocked. "MY LIFE WAS NOTHING BUT PAIN AND SACRIFICE AND SAVING THE WINCHESTERS UNTIL I MET YOU, AND I WAS ALRIGHT WITH THAT!"

"SO WHAT, I RUINED YOUR DEATH WISH, IS THAT IT?"

"I WAS FINE WITH THE IDEA! I GOT TO MEET YOU. I GOT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU. I GOT TO SLEEP AND WAKE UP NEXT TO YOU AND ENJOY HUMANITY WITH YOU AND PLAN A FUTURE TOGETHER WITH YOU!" He wasn't making any sense. What did this have to do with him being "prepared to die?"

"WHAT DOES PLANNING MATTER IF YOU DON'T FOLLOW THROUGH?"

"I KNEW I WAS DYING!" He shouted. "I REMEMBER BEING ON THE FLOOR. I REMEMBER THAT I WAS ALMOST DEAD!"

We both paused, acknowledging what had been said. "What?" I asked quietly. Castiel sighed.

"This will be easier." He murmured, putting his index and middle finger to my forehead.

 _I was walking, shambling, more like it, on unsteady feet. I was worse than I'd been letting on. It took all my concentration to walk in a straight line, much less do that and carry on a conversation at the same time with Kylie. But I couldn't let her know that. She would try to help, but it was more like giving a man dying of cancer a shot of morphine; it took away the pain, but it didn't actually make him any better, no matter how he went on parading that it did for a moment._

 _Each time Kylie cast one of those spells to help me, it only took away the pain, not made me better. I would lose headaches and nausea, but in turn gain the visage of the woman I loved hunched over in her own pain, in_ my pain _that she chose to take from me._

 _That was even worse than dying._

 _So when I stumbled and fell, when I felt myself vomit up blood and, well, vomit… I didn't cry out for my girlfriend. She didn't need to see this. She didn't need to see any of this._

 _She would see it later, though. She would see it after I was already gone._

 _But at that point, I was too far gone for her to worry about saving, for her to feel any guilt over._

 _I saw her face in my mind, smiling at me for one of I don't know how many reasons. Maybe I had caused her to laugh. Maybe I had created happiness for her. Maybe, just maybe… Maybe she was just happy being with me._

 _And as I faded away, I could've sworn I heard her say my name one last time, and it made me smile internally._

 _Maybe my father is still here, and that was his gift to me; Her, just her, and hearing her voice one more time._


	6. I Hate Arguing With Cas

When Cas removed his fingers I was snapped back in to my own body, back in the rain, back in the fight, back in everything.

"You…" I took a deep breath. "You knew you were about to die. You knew you were dying. You were about to die, and you wanted to die?"

"I was alright with the idea." Castiel corrected me.

"I would've walked in and saw you… DEAD." I stated, my voice firm and clear. "And you were alright with that?"

"It wasn't ideal," he started, but I cut him off.

"Not IDEAL?" I asked. "Cas, I ALMOST WATCHED YOU DIE ON THE FLOOR! YOU WANT TO CALL THAT NOT IDEAL?"

"YES, I DO!"

"YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT I'D CALL IT?" I dared him, not even giving him a chance to respond before I continued. "HELL. THAT'S MY VERSION OF HELL. I ALMOST HAD TO WATCH YOU DIE, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME, AND IF YOU DON'T THINK I'D DO ANYTHING TO SAVE YOU THEN… THEN…" I shook my head.

"THEN WHAT?"

"THEN WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME, OR ABOUT US?!" I challenged. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT OUR RELATIONSHIP IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THAT I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANYTHING TO NOT HAVE TO WATCH YOU DIE!"

"AND YOU THOUGHT BINDING YOUR SOUL TO ME WAS THE SOLUTION?"

"WELL THEN WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE, IF IT WERE REVERSED?" He shook his head.

"DON'T USE THAT FORM OF ARGUMENT ON ME AGAIN, IT'S POINTLESS."

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE IT WASN'T YOU, IT WAS ME, AND I AM ALLOWED TO MAKE CHOICES FOR MY OWN LIFE!"

"WELL I'M SORRY, BUT I CAN'T JUST LET YOU DIE. NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO DO ABOUT IT!"

"COULD YOU BE ANY MORE LIKE A WINCHESTER?" He questioned.

"AT LEAST I CARED!"

"AND NOW IF I GET HURT, YOU GET HURT!"

"NOT ANYMORE!" I shouted. "THAT BURN MARK? THE SPELL IS TOAST. IT BURNT OUT WHEN CROWLEY GAVE YOU THE GRACE!" I didn't mention that it had felt like shit, too. But when Castiel didn't respond, I continued. "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? YOU'RE BACK AT SQUARE ONE, SO IT'S NOT LIKE ANYTHING I DID MATTERS, NOW, DOES IT? NOT IF YOU'RE JUST GONNA GET PISSED AT THE EFFORT!"

"I JUST DON'T WANT YOU RISKING YOUR LIFE TO SAVE MINE!"

"THEN NEXT TIME YOU DECIDE YOU'RE GOING TO DIE, MAKE SURE I'M NOT ANYWHERE NEAR YOU!" I felt myself starting to cry. I'd been devastated to see him almost dead, and knowing that Cas wished I hadn't… That he was pissed… I knew he'd be pissed ahead of time, but actually hearing it was a totally different beast.

It was like all my nerves and fears about Castiel almost dying and his responses to my choice, the stress and guilt and worry that had been eating me alive… It finally all came crashing at me in one moment and I couldn't help it, I started to cry in the rain like a trashy romance novel.

"BECAUSE I CAN'T JUST LET YOU DIE, CAS!" I screamed out through the tears. "I CAN'T. AND IF THAT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU UNDERSTAND, THEN I'M SORRY, BUT I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT TO YOU."

"IF YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHY IT PAINS ME THAT YOU MADE A DECISION LIKE THAT, THEN I CANNOT EXPLAIN IT TO YOU EITHER!"

Castiel and I both stared each other down, neither one of us certain as to what to say next. I knew if I said anything else, I wouldn't be able to keep my voice steady anymore. If Cas said anything…. I don't know if he would keep screaming at me or not.

So he stormed back inside, knowing neither of us would back down and apologize. Neither of us felt like we had anything to apologize for, save for possibly the screaming and shouting at each other.

And I stayed out in the rain, fighting the urge to punch a damn tree or something.

I knew when Crowley showed up again. He didn't have to say anything, this time I just knew. "Piss off." I muttered, not even bothering to turn and look at him.

"Just as a fun, tasty tidbit for my own personal enjoyment," he told me. "You're a good liar, but we both know the spell hasn't really worn off."

I didn't say anything, just took a glance at my palm. The black was starting to fade out, back in to that ugly red that screamed of pain.

"Don't hurt him." I said, my voice quiet. "I don't care what he said, just don't hurt him."

"I won't," the demon promised. "So long as you do what I say."

I hesitated, still hearing Castiel's anger in my mind, before I made my decision.

"Fine."


	7. Hannah's Advice

**Hey guys, WriKai here! Sorry I haven't posted in a long time. Things have been crazy hectic around for me. Hopefully it's all settled down enough that I can start posting on a regular basis again. I missed you all so much, though!**

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I stayed outside for a while, long after Crowley had left. I didn't really want to go in, and I really didn't care if I got a cold or not.

It wasn't like anything done to me would hurt Cas. It was just whatever was done to him. One-way soul train, after all. The only reason I'd gotten the black mark was probably due to angel grace backlash or something.

But I knew it wasn't gone. I'd known when Cas had shown up to help with Dean. He'd elbowed Cas in the stomach, and it'd felt like a sucker punch to my gut. Damn did Dean have sharp elbows!

I'd known, and I couldn't tell Cas. Not after his reaction to just knowing I'd done it. I wasn't certain if he'd shout at me again, or even whether he still liked me or not for doing that, much less loved me.

Eventually, Hannah came outside. "Hello." She said, taking a glance around at the rain. "Are you not cold and wet?"

"I am."

"Then why do you remain outside?"

"I don't think I can go inside." And it was true, I wasn't certain if I could. After all, Cas was in there, still pissed as hell at me. No doubt Sam and Dean had heard our fight outside, or had had Castiel tell them. Dean said he was fine with magic, but… I doubted he'd be cool with that, and Sam already wasn't a big fan of what I did.

"You saved him." She stated, staying under cover from the rain.

"He told you?"

"I could hear." She tapped the side of her head, in front of her ears. "Angelic hearing is better than normal hearing."

"Did he tell Sam and Dean?"

She listened for a moment before nodding, and I let out a sigh. "If it makes you feel any better, they are taking it well."

"Yeah, but the one person that I wanted to take it well," I shrugged. "Isn't."

"Give him time. He is worried for your health and safety."

"So he's allowed to worry, but I'm not."

"Look at it from his perspective." She offered. "Every time he felt pain that was suddenly gone, he felt better. The only reason he is still alive now is in part to your spell, one that would've killed you with him. He thrived off of parts of your soul, an action that considerably lowered your lifespan."

I hadn't thought about that possible side effect, but at the same time I couldn't find it in myself to care.

"So?" I asked instead.

"How would you feel if he did that as well, cut his lifespan in half to extend your dying one for a few more months, and then almost died with you?"

"I'd be…" I stopped, realizing what I was about to say. I'd be pissed, absolutely furious that he'd throw his life away trying to let a dying human like me live for just a little longer. I'd be telling him that it wasn't worth the risk, that I wouldn't be worth the risk.

I would've stalked back inside full of fire and anger, just like he had.

Hannah smiled, and gave me a small nod. "Both of you are right in your reasoning, as well as your anger. But I believe that if you two would sit down, inside," she emphasized. "And talk about it, then there would be no hard feelings on either side."

"But…" I thought about it. "What do I do if he comes close to dying again? If I'm there, I'm gonna do something, anything, to save him."

"Then you must accept the consequences of those actions, and accept that they will not be perceived favorably." She answered. "And accept that he may do the same for you, and that it would be hypocritical of you to have the same anger towards him."

"Do you think he'll see that rationale too?" I asked.

"Do you see it fully?" She countered. I smiled a bit before shaking my head. "I thought so. You both will just have to learn how to see each other's rationale, and how to acknowledge each side equally."

She went back inside, and once again I stayed out in the rain. I wasn't certain how to go in, much less when I would or whether I even should.

I wanted to know if Cas was ok with this, still ok with me. I was afraid to go in, afraid that he wouldn't be ok and would call off the relationship now. I loved being with Cas, and wouldn't trade it for anything.

Well, maybe one thing.

If I was going to lose him, because I couldn't bear the thought of living with him dead, then maybe I could bear that. I could bear Cas wanting to leave, if it meant that he was still alive and somewhat safe.

I might even be able to bear being under Crowley's thumb, so long as Cas was safe and none the wiser as to the cost of it.

I just wasn't certain as to if I could bear it without a lot of problems.


	8. Mom?

I fell asleep outside in the rain, leaned up against a tree. I didn't remember falling asleep, but I remembered being shaken awake, and blinking heavily as it still rained. "You need to get out of the cold, Kylie." The voice was… familiar, but in the way that a voice is familiar when you haven't heard it in a long time.

When I finally opened my eyes fully, I saw the last person I expected to see.

"Mom?" I asked, staring up. Dark brown hair, facial features like full red lips and pretty eyes that I always wished I could've inherited. She was wearing her favorite jacket, the jean one dad had gotten her for Christmas when I was five, a pair of jeans, and a purple tank top.

I could see the wedding ring on her finger, the one that Dean and Sam had never seen because the demon had sold it for cash.

"Hey, sweetheart." She said, smiling down at me. "Come on, let's get you out of the cold."

It was like I was a small kid again, when I would crash out from playing in the rain so much. I'd curl up in the leaky dog house, for the dog we never got because Josiah and Art had both ended up being allergic, and just fall asleep there while it was still raining. Once I remembered that, it was as though I was back in that dog house, instead of against a tree, and mom was poking her head in. "Come on." She said, offering me her hand. I took it, and saw my own become much smaller and daintier, as though…

As though I really was a child again.

I took mom's hand carefully, and came out of the doghouse shivering and cold. "Oh, honey," she murmured. "Let's get you in a hot bath to warm you up."

"Mom?" I said her name like a question, still uncertain that it was her.

"What's wrong, Kai?"

Mom had been the only person to ever call me that when I was a kid. When I'd asked her where the nickname had come from, she'd explained that when I was learning to talk I couldn't say the last syllable well, so I would just say my name was Kai. When I had gone homeless, I'd picked the name in hopes that she would come find me.

"You…" All of the sudden I was in the bath, surrounded by warm water and bubbles while mom sat on the edge beside me. "You're not real, mom."

"What do you mean, kiddo?" She smiled and laughed a little. "Of course I'm real!"

"I mean," I motioned around me with a soapy hand. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

"Just because it's a dream doesn't mean I'm not real."

"But you're dead." The words fell like a heavy weight, and I watched mom sigh.

"That doesn't make me any less real to you, though." She answered. "Just because I may not be real out there, doesn't mean I'm not real in here." She poked my forehead with a small smile. "And here." She poked my chest, right over my heart, and I giggled like the little girl I was in the dream.

"I miss you, mom." I admitted quietly. She nodded.

"I miss you too, Kai-Kai." She responded. "But you've got to know that I am so proud of you. You've worked hard to help the people around you, and even harder with those boys and that angel of yours."

"How do you know about that, mom?" I asked. She tapped my head.

"This is a dream, kiddo." She reminded me. "Anything you know, I know."

"How do I know for certain that this isn't some…. THING messing with my head? I've read spellbooks, I know how to screw with people's dreams. So how do I know that this isn't one of those kinds of dreams?"

"You always were the studious child." She commented. The scene changed, suddenly. We were sitting in two cozy chairs, across from each other, with a fire blazing beside us.

"So if you're not mom, who are you?" I asked after a moment.

"Still mom." She answered. "This was set out long before you were born, or anything happened in general."

"What do you mean?"

"Right now, kiddo," she shook her head. "You're five years old."

"I'm nineteen."

"You're nineteen?" She asked, shaking her head. "I… I missed out on that much?"

"What do you mean?"

"When did I leave?" She asked.

"You're inside my head, you should know." I pointed out. She sat there for a moment, thinking, before shuddering. "I… It happens like that?" She asked. "A demon… That demon comes for me?"

"Meg?" I asked. She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it happens like that. How come you don't know that?" When she didn't answer, I asked again. "Mom, or whoever you are," this earned me a small bit of shock on her part. "What is this?"

"It's time you knew a few things about your family, sweetheart." She started. "I'm mom, I promise, but not the mom you come to know."

"You're not making a lot of sense."

"I know I'm not, but you need to listen and understand, alright?" She requested. I nodded, unsure as to whether or not I should've agreed. But mom smiled in relief, happy that I had agreed.

Once she smiled, everything except the chairs we sat in fell away. I gripped the armrests tightly, scrunching up quickly in to a little ball. "I know this is going to be a little disorienting at first, but there are things I need to show you." She explained.

Then I was… in an unfamiliar room. It was dark, kinda spooky, and lit by candles. I saw a… A younger version of my mom, chanting?

"When I was a young adult, I turned to witchcraft." She started to explain. "First out of curiosity, then because of what it did and the effectiveness of it. I learned from my mother, your grandmother, that she had done the same, as had her mother before her and her mother prior, going back I don't know how many generations."

I watched my mom smile, the younger version, as she came up from whatever spell she was casting. I saw a picture of a man I didn't know, with a symbol written on it in blood.

"That was a man, a rapist that had attack three of my friends, but had gotten off on a sentence that was much too easy for his crimes." She explained. "I don't regret what I did to him. To this day, I still don't."

The scene changed again, and this time I was in my room, at five years old, with mom running her hands through my hair. I was fast asleep.

"I cast this spell, in my time when you were five, to get in touch with you in case you ever started going down the same path as I had when I was about your age." She started. "And obviously, you have."

"You were a witch?"

"As was your grandmother, your great-grandmother, and almost every first daughter in your family line going back generations." She answered. "And as are you."

"I thought I hadn't crossed that line," I said. "That the spells I cast were just behind it without crossing over it."

"Sweetheart," she smiled at me. "When you saved your boyfriend, you used a blood spell, which shoved you far enough over the line, but even then…" She shook her head. "You made no allegiance to any dark entity, but that doesn't mean you weren't a witch from the first spell you cast."

"Huh?"

"Each witch remembers their first spell, the one that they convinced themselves was just a trial one, that it wasn't anything that counted." Mom answered. "Mine was one to improve my memory. Yours was to find… Dean." In saying his name, an image of him appeared. "And Sam." He popped up beside Dean. "And Castiel, the one that pushed you over that official line in the majority of witch covens." Castiel stood beside me, grasping my hand lightly.

"Why did you decide to get in touch with me?" I asked, looking away from Cas. He disappeared in a second.

"I wanted to know if you would follow in your family's footsteps, as well as why."

"Well, you know why, now." I answered. "I wanted to help Sam and Cas find Dean, and keep Castiel alive while his grace is failing."

"There is more to it, though, isn't there?" She asked. I didn't answer. "You felt it."

"Felt what?"

"The calling." She smiled. "Magic is in your blood, Kylie. I was hoping you wouldn't get caught up in all of this, but at the same time… You did it for good reasons."

"Wait, back track a little bit here. What do you mean by 'The Calling?'" I asked.

"Magic is in your blood." She repeated. "It calls to you as it calls to every first female in a new generation."

"But I didn't feel any freaky attraction to the books, not even when I first showed up at the Bunker!" I pointed out. "I only did it out of necessity."

"And those magic tricks you use to earn money instead of hustling pool or picking pockets?" She asked. I looked away, ashamed, and heard her laugh. "I'm not mad at you, Kylie. A little disappointed that you resorted to it, and ashamed that it was in part my fault that you had to, but I will not condone you for it. You did what was needed to survive. We've all been at that place where we're without a single penny to our names. I remember," she laughed a little bit. "When I first met your father, he was living out of a beat-up old Pinto, an awful putrid green color." We both laughed at that.

"What about you?"

"I was living like you, on the streets, except I was there because I failed to make it big as an artist." She waved her hand, and I saw a few of her old paintings I'd seen her do when I was a child. Things that had always made me happy, like pictures of wizards and unicorns and alien places. "I never felt good about using magic to make my paintings better. I figured if I couldn't do it off my own talent, then it wouldn't be worth doing in general. Meeting your father after that realization… That was the best day of my life."

"So… Why did you wanna talk, mom?" I wanted to believe it was her, and somewhere inside of me I knew that it really was her, from fourteen years ago, making sure I was alright as an adult.

"Are you ok?" She asked in turn. I didn't answer, just thought.

I thought for a while before finally answering. "No." I shook my head. "I'm not. I'm trying and doing my best to do good and save people and help, but I feel as though each choice I make just ends up putting me in a different boiling pot." I explained, putting my head in my hands. "I just… I miss you, mom. I miss you and I don't know what to do some days and I had to go on a first date without getting to talk with you and I died and came back to life and didn't know what to do and I even got thrown in angel jail, mom. I got thrown in ANGEL JAIL. I didn't even think that was a thing!" I started crying, now, letting it all fall out. "I had to watch my best friend die, and learn for a fact that my other one was killed because she helped me. I almost had to watch Cas die…" I steadied my breath. "And now he hates me for it. I've destroyed every good thing in my life because of my choices. I couldn't save Danny. I couldn't save Kevin. I saved Cas, but… I lost him in saving him." I shook my head out, trying to clear it. "And now I'm probably still asleep, actually in the rain and getting a cold, because I didn't want to go inside and face everything I've done and lost." I let out a hoarse laugh. "And I'm talking to my dead mom in my sleep, let's not forget about that. My dead mom, who was apparently a witch in a long line of witches."

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" She asked. I nodded. "I wish I could've been there, sweetheart. For this amazing first boyfriend that I wish I had more time to hear about, to help console you when things got hard, and to protect you from everything that's happened, but I can't." As she spoke, I could feel the scenery around us fade slowly.

"What's happening, mom?" I asked. She sighed.

"I only had a certain amount of time with you, kiddo. And once it's up, I won't be able to cast this spell again."

"Why not?"

"Because this spell…." She shook her head. "Do you remember a time when you were little, and you got very, very sick?" She asked. I thought for a moment, and nodded.

"I was in the hospital for three days. Random heart problem. Dad told me years later that I'd almost died." I answered. Mom nodded.

"That's what happens. Good to know." She said. "I'll make sure to take you to the hospital in a little bit."

"Why did I get sick?" I asked. The room was fading faster now, as were the chairs.

"It's an effect of the spell." She explained. "That's why I can only do this once. By the time your essence, your soul, is strong enough for me to do this again without killing you… I'll be gone by then." Even as she spoke her voice began to fade.

"Wait, mom!" I stood up, or tried to, but I felt as though I was walking through soup.

"I love you, Kai Kai." She told me, disappearing before my eyes. "And I'm so proud of you."

"Mom!" I screamed. "MOM!"

I woke up with a start, shivering and drenched and freezing and…

Yep, there's the cold I could feel.

I felt warm hands behind my back, and I looked up, startled.

It was Cas, and he looked worried.

"You're sick." He stated, putting the back of his hand to my forehead. "You're running a very high fever, and your heart," he put the flat of his palm on my head for only a moment before moving it away to pick me up. "You need to get inside, now."

"How long…." I couldn't finish the sentence without seeing spots. I couldn't breathe, I felt like my heart was constricting…

That spell took more than just 5-year-old me's essence. It took 19-year-old me parts, too.

"Cas, I…"

This time, instead of falling asleep, I passed out, unable to keep breathing properly.


	9. Truth and Lies

I woke up in my bed, hearing Castiel mutter quietly. "Please don't let it end like this." He whispered. I looked over at him slowly to see him bowed, eyes closed, hands on his knees. "I understand what she meant, and I just want to tell her I'm sorry."

"Tell who you're sorry?" I whispered hoarsely. He automatically looked up, relief flooding his voice.

"You're awake." He said, his voice thankful and reverent. Maybe a second later, I was enveloped in his overcoat, his arms wrapped around me and lifting me in to a sitting position.

"How long was I out?" I asked, feeling my throat's soreness.

"Three days." He answered. "I tried to heal you, but it was as though something was blocking the majority of my efforts."

"That would be the after-effects." I muttered.

"The what?" He asked, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

"I'll tell you later." I promised. "First, there's something I have to tell you."

"There's something I have to tell you, first." He interjected. "It is… Kylie I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being angry, I'm sorry for scaring you, I'm sorry for being… ungrateful for the sacrifice you made to help me." He started. "I'm sorry for not taking a moment to evaluate what your feelings were on the matter. I was so scared of having to watch you die… I didn't even think about how that same event might feel to you as well."

He understood.

Thank you whoever he understood.

I was about to speak, to tell him the truth, when he continued. "I'm just… I'm glad it is also not something we need worry about any longer. I was… I was worried about hurting you, accidentally, by not taking better care of myself. Not that I don't intend on keeping myself alive and healthy," he added quickly. "But I was worried that, if something happened and I was to get grievously injured, I would have to see the result of my carelessness reflected upon you."

I felt the hope of telling him die inside of me. Both of us, all we wanted was to keep the other safe. If I told Cas that the one-way bond was still in effect….

He wouldn't be comfortable doing what he needed to do sometimes. He wouldn't be him, be the Cas I love, because he'd be so worried about getting a scratch and giving me one as well.

"As long as you try to keep yourself at least a little safe and healthy," I said instead. "Then I don't care. But I think we can both agree," I gripped his hand lightly, feeling a heavy weight settling on my shoulders. "That we just need to talk and be open with each other. Not hide things like how sick you were getting, or how I did… what I did…" I swallowed down how much I was hating myself at that moment. "We need to be able to talk with each other, and we both just… need to be aware of how important we are to each other."

I felt like the worst girlfriend ever.

No, strike that. I felt like the absolute worst PERSON ever.

I loved Cas. I loved him! How could I do that?

But at the same time I heard Crowley's voice, our conversation, in the back of my mind.

" _If he's not useful, then I have no problem killing him. Killing you would just be a bonus."_

" _But you said I'm interesting."_

" _Only if you're useful."_

" _And if I'm not useful, but Castiel is?"_

" _Who says Castiel is useful at all?"_

I couldn't tell him. Not until I knew a way to take Crowley out first, or figured out a way to break the spell.

So Castiel nodded, held me close again, and I told him about my talk with my mom, if that even was my mom. It made sense, what had happened to me now had been the same thing that happened then, but at the same time…

I didn't just want to be deluding myself in to seeing what I wanted to see.

"So…" He thought for a few moments before answering. "Magic has been a part of your family for generations."

"Apparently." I said. "I want to do a family tree, some research, see if it really is true, but if so…" I wasn't certain how to continue. Do I become a witch? Do I back away from it? Is it inevitable that I will go for the bones and sacrifices and attacking people with it?

Then again, haven't I been doing things like that already?

"Cas, what do I do with this information?" I asked.

"What do you want to do with it?"

"A part of me wants to explore every inch of it, see if there's something to be learned or corrected or fixed because I'm curious like that," or because it's the Calling. I neglected to add that part on, though, and instead continued. "But on the other hand I'm terrified that I'm going to turn in to a witch that we kill, the one that's gone off the rails with power and hurting people, and I want to bury this all in a box as far away as I can."

"Why did you use it?" He asked after a few moments of contemplation.

"I wanted to help you and Sam find Dean, and after that keep you both alive and well and be prepared in case of an emergency." I answered. "After that, when the basic spells to find Dean all failed, I wanted to see if there was a way I could improve upon them to make a better tracking spell."

"Did you intend to hurt anyone or cause harm?"

"Of course not." I shook my head.

"Then I think that the question you should be asking your self is if you are a good witch or a bad witch," Castiel answered. "If you decide to continue with magic, anyways."

"Did you just quote the _Wizard of Oz_?" I asked.

"It is still a valid point." He answered. I laughed.

"Fine, so let's say I do continue, and only out of necessity." I stressed that last part. "Would you be alright with it?"

"Why would I not be?"

"I know Sam and Dean's stances on witches isn't entirely favorable, and it would make sense for yours to not be as well," I started, but Castiel shushed me.

"I am your boyfriend, not your master." He answered. "If you decide to continue, I will support you and do what I can to help. If you decide not to, I will do the same. But the choice is not mine to make, nor should it matter if I am alright with it or not." He smiled. "You are your own person, one extraordinarily stubborn and headstrong and small," I gave him a tiny glare.

"Hey!" I argued. He just looked at me. "Alright, fine, go on." I muttered.

"And brave and smart and beautiful and absolutely amazing." He finished, giving me a short kiss. "So the decision is entirely yours on how you decide to continue with this."

"Thank you, Cas." I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "I think I want to do a little more research on my… my family history," gotta own it sometime, right? "Before I tell Sam and Dean about it."

"I understand." He replied. "Are you going to be alright?" Castiel asked. I looked down at myself and nodded.

"No broken bones, no lacerations, no lack of memory, no random possession by a demon." I shrugged. "Considering the circumstances I think I'm about as right as I'll get."

"That's not what I meant." He corrected. "I mean, are you going to be alright with the conversation you had with your mother, with us, with… everything, I guess."

I nodded, looking over at him. "I've got you, don't I?" I asked. He nodded, and I smiled. "Then I'll be fine. As long as we have each other," I entwined our fingers together, feeling silly and childish for doing so but at the same time so comfortable and safe. "Then I know I'll be fine, and I really hope you are too."

"I love you." He said, the words sounding as factual as saying the sky was blue. "I won't just be fine, I'll be… I'll be as close to perfection as I can get." I smiled, turning to hide my blush as my stomach rumbled. "Come on, I will make you breakfast."

"You know how to cook?" I asked.

"I remember the bits you showed me," he answered. "But I also remember your favorite breakfast, something that is quite ingeniously simple to make."

"I never told you my favorite breakfast." I pointed out, casting him my best inquiring side glance.

"I paid attention." He smirked in response, standing up first himself before helping me up. "Scrambled eggs, with more salt than pepper, and burnt toast that seemed to be drowning in butter."

"Damn." I muttered. "You did pay attention."

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, walking towards the kitchen. I followed, allowing myself for a moment to forget that I was hiding something, forget for a moment that I had just lied to my boyfriend and that I was an Nth Generation witch and that I had just had a talk with my mom, in a dream that put me in a coma for three days fourteen years ago and in the present time.

I put all of that aside, but I didn't pretend I was just a normal girl, not this time.

I was too far away from normal at this point to pretend that I was anything but.

So I put everything aside, and focused my mind on the absolute truth right in front of me. I was following my angelic boyfriend that I loved, and he was going to make me breakfast.


	10. Another Day At The Office

In the following weeks, I either ran research from the Bunker or went on hunts with Cas. If Cas was out doing angel recon with Hannah, I was running info for them and whatever Sam and Dean were up to.

In my free time, I researched my family history on my mom's side. I found a litany of fortuitous things happening to the women, be it contests won or enemies being removed. I found my couple of greats grandmother Rita had apparently been a well-known local healer, and….

Yep, there it was. Way back when, a lot of women in my family were convicted of witchcraft in Salem.

"Well damn." I muttered when I finally found it. "It really was mom." I thought more for a moment. "Or someone who stalked my family history and childhood extensively enough to fuck with me in a dream at the age of 19." I decided.

That one was a fun day.

But when I got a call from Cas about two weeks later, I knew something was up. Dean and Sam were out on a case, and Cas had been with Hannah investigating an angel issue.

"Hey, babe, what's going on?" I asked him, smiling a little.

"I'm on my way back." He stated.

"Great! Is Hannah coming too or," Cas cut me off before I could finish.

"Hannah isn't coming back." He stated. "I am taking her vessel home."

"Oh." I didn't ask what happened. If he was taking her vessel back, then Hannah wasn't dead, she had just… left for Heaven again.

Probably permanently.

"Can you… Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything, babe. What's wrong?"

"Can you look up information on a person for me?"

"Yeah, who?"

"Claire Novak." He answered. I recognized the last name as his vessel's own.

Even more so, I remembered that name.

Claire was his vessel's daughter.

"OK." I agreed.

"I understand that you probably have questions, and I promise I will answer them all when I return." He said. This time, it was my turn to cut him off.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll look her up. You do what you need to get done done, alright?" I told him. I could almost hear the relief on his end.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. I love you, Cas. Be safe."

"I love you too." The line went dead, and I got to work. Information on a demon-killing witch-type spell for Dean and Sam, and info on Castiel's vessel's daughter for, well, my boyfriend. I still hadn't told Dean and Sam about my family history, and wasn't planning on doing it over the phone.

"Just another day at the office." I muttered. On one hand, I wanted to help Cas out as soon as possible.

On the other hand… I couldn't just send Dean and Sam information on the witch spell without testing it out first.

"This is very bad." I muttered, looking at the ingredients. "This is a really bad idea."

I'd been off the magic, trying to work without it, but… It was actually fun. It had been legitimately fun to do the research and learn the spells and experiment and look at it all like a whole huge math or science problem.

That had been a part of what had drawn me to magic tricks in the first place, how I was able to use math or little science bits I knew sometimes to make it work, along with sleight of hand. And now… Now I could do all the same stuff without the sleight of hand stuff.

"Well damn." I muttered, printing off the ingredients. I was going to need a demon to test it out on first, though.

It was then that I got another phone call. The number was familiar, one that hadn't saved in my phone because I didn't want it in my phone.

"What?" I asked, not even bothering to hide the disgust.

"Darling, so lovely to speak with you again." Crowley spoke.

"Don't call me that."

"Ooooh. A bit testy today, are we?"

"Let's try this again, since you clearly don't understand the absolute loathing and resentment I feel every time I have to deal with you." I stated. "What?"

"Fine, fine, fine." He conceded. "I heard that you were looking in to information on witches and witchcraft." I thought for a moment. Did he have a way to track what I looked up? Was he following Sam and Dean's case?

Did he know about my family or just taking a guess?

"And?"

"The anti demon spell." He clarified. "Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum want it."

"They heard about an aggressive activist witch making it, and want the info on whether it's true or not." I stated.

"I want the information as well." He said. "I want to know how it's made, who made it, and preferably who's still making it now."

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

"I thought we'd already gone over this, darling."

"Don't call me darling." I snarled. Crowley just sighed.

"Fine, we'll do it your way." He declared. "Castiel is driving his truly awful pimp-car right now, taking home the former vessel of an angel, something that could be very useful to me." I felt myself freeze a little inside. "If you want me to leave the human and your boyfriend alone, you'll do it."

"I can get you the how, no problem." I said through gritted teeth. "But the other two may be more difficult." That was a partial lie, of course. I'd already gotten info on who from the brothers when Sam had done his research, but as to who was making them now I had no clue.

"Figure it out." Crowley ordered. The line went dead a moment later, and I stared at it with a fair mix of anger and annoyance.

"Figure it out." I muttered, doing my best imitation of his voice. "What a dick." I didn't understand how in the hell Sam and Dean could talk with the guy, much less actually work with him.

"A dick that has leverage, though." I pointed out to myself, remembering that part.

God, I hated Crowley.

I went back to doing my research, partially hating myself as I did so. If I'd just told Cas, it would've been easier.

But I couldn't tell him, could I?

Because he was so relieved that he didn't have to worry about it.

"Good thing I don't go with him on angel business." I decided, rubbing my shoulder. Usually, everything was peaceful, but every once in a while…

I could feel when it stopped being peaceful.

I found the ingredients no problem, and decided to run a search to see if any stores had sold those recently, either large quantities at the same place or small quantities at multiple stores close together. Once I was there, I hit the kitchen and started putting it together. I surprisingly had all the ingredients there that I needed, but I was missing something important.

"I need a demon to test this on." I decided. I had two options for this. I could summon one, or…

If Crowley had me under this thumb, then summoning one could be risky. I didn't want to summon the wrong one and risk him being, well… The King of Hell.

I stared at my cell phone angrily. "I hate this." I muttered, grabbing it. I hit redial, and was connected pretty quickly.

"You have news so soon?" He asked. "I'm impressed."

"I need a demon." I answered.

"Any particular kind?"

"One you don't mind losing."

"Clever." He commented. "Asking permission from the king before killing one of mine."

"I just want to keep Castiel safe." I stated. "I'd rather be careful than sorry. Besides, you're a king. You must have some demons you don't like."

"You're right, I don't." He agreed. I could hear him thinking for a minute. "I'll text you a location. Be there in an hour to test out your spell."

This time, I hung up on him. If I only had an hour to put together this hex bag, I wanted to do it right. I got a text from Crowley giving me an address to a cheap-ass bar maybe fifteen minutes away, one I recognized from going down to hustle pool now and again.

"Wonderful." I muttered when I recognized it. "Not like anybody will know my face at all."

I was going to have to lure the demon outside and see if he liquefies, if what Sam and Dean had said was anything to go by.

Just another day at the office.


	11. To Bind And Purge

I threw up after watching what it did to the demon, what one hex bag accomplished. I thought I was desensitized, that I wasn't able to be phased easily anymore, but this…

Finding the demon itself wasn't difficult, Sam and Dean had shown me an easy trick by saying "Christo." But watching it…. Watching what looked like a person vomit black until they died….

I threw up as well, staring in horror at the dumpster at what I'd just seen.

The thing, the spell, the hex bag of doom, was called Defigere Et Depurgare. "To bind and purge."

I prayed I would never meet the witch who created this spell. If they could do something like that, to a demon….

On the way back to the Bunker, I questioned whether witchcraft was something I really wanted to pursue, after watching that. I used it to heal, yeah, but I'd just…

No, that was a lie. I'd used it to do more than healing. I'd used it to save my own ass, to try and track down people, and now… I'd just used it to kill a demon in the most gruesome manner I could think of; simply because I wanted to TEST OUT the spell and see if it worked.

I pulled over on my way back to throw up some more, continually expecting what came out to be black and sludge and tinged with smoke.

Once I finally made it back to the Bunker, though, I checked my results for my search. A couple of ingredients bought here and there, but it was all too spread out and not nearly close enough to where Sam and Dean were for the results to be substantial.

In all honesty, I was glad it hadn't turned up anything.

So I called Sam and Dean, and sent them all the information I'd gotten. What was in it, where it was created, the witch WHO created it, how long it'd been since the stuff had been used, everything. Sam only asked one question.

"How did you know it would work?" He asked.

"I tried it out." I answered, and I could even hear how hollow my own voice sounded. Sam and Dean didn't ask any more questions after that, just told me that I'd done good and that I should turn in for the night. I hung up feeling just as bad as I had when I'd called.

I emailed everything to them so that they could look over it themselves, and afterwards did the same for Crowley. He'd sent me a text with an email address for the results of my "experiment."

Once it was sent, I got a short text. Good work. I'll be in touch.

Bastard.

I set up a search for Claire Novak on my computer, one that would run for a while and gather all the pertinent information. Where she'd been, what was up, medical and police records if there were any, and last place of residency.

Finally, I caved and grabbed my phone. Castiel's number was the first on my speed dial.

"Kylie?"

"Hey Cas." I said, letting out a small sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?" I almost laughed. This was a part of why I loved him. He understood when something wasn't right.

"I killed a demon today." I answered.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not the way I did it." I started. Then I told him about the hunt Sam and Dean were on, about the spell that liquefied demons, how I'd gone and tested it out. I left out the parts about Crowley, and instead just said that I'd summoned one.

But I told him about how it'd been just… horrifying. Not just in what happened, but that I had originally gone out to do so KNOWING that that would be the result.

"And this is what my family does, Cas." I said. "Or at least, did, anyways, since I'm the last one. They cast spells and hurt others and even my own mom…" I remembered her telling me about the rapist. "No matter the reasoning, the end result is still the same. People end up hurt, killed, used and thrown aside to make a point. And I just…"

I had just done that myself, hadn't I? Just used a demon, a demon with a person inside of it.

"There was a person trapped inside that body." I said. "And now they're dead too. I don't know what I imagined would happen, but… I didn't think it would be like that."

"Kylie," Castiel's voice was soft, kind. "You're not like that. You know that, right?"

"But what if I do cross that line?" I asked him. "What if in doing the witchcraft and following the stupid ass Calling crap, I cross that line from being a person that uses witchcraft to help you guys out in to…"

"In to the kind of witch we kill." Castiel finished. I gulped.

"Yeah."

"I don't think you will." He said. "I know you do not like the idea of hurting people like that. Whenever I see you fight, you fight in self-defense. When you used witchcraft and magic, you used it to help others, not hurt them."

"Isn't that how all witches start, though?" I pointed out. Castiel sighed.

"I don't believe that you will become a bad witch." Castiel told me. "I believe in you, and I believe in your choices. If you want to continue, I support you still, and will continue to believe that you are a good person at heart. If you want to discontinue, I still believe in you and will support you."

"Thank you, Cas." I smiled, feeling a little better about the whole thing. "Oh, and before I forget, I have a comprehensive search on Claire Novak running right now. I should have definitive answers for you by morning."

"I'll be back in two days." He answered. "Tell me then. For now, though, rest and recover."

"Alright." I agreed, turning back to the laptop. It was still running, still pulling information up at random intervals. "I love you, Cas."

"I love you too." He said. I could hear the smile in his voice before the line disconnected.

I looked back over at all the books that cluttered the space around my laptop, all the different ones on spells and witchcraft and magic and the like.

I'd already put them all in to my filing system for my laptop so I knew where they were.

I put them away, one by one, until they were back in their places, and went to bed.


	12. Meeting Claire Novack

Meeting Claire was interesting. I went with Castiel, for moral support, but when he went to see Claire for the first time we both agreed it was smarter for me to stay behind. After all, I was, what? 21 now? I'd had a birthday in Heaven's jail and had died and was three or four years older than this girl, dating the angel possessing her dad's vessel.

Me meeting Claire when Cas went to see her first would have made an already strained "reunion" infinitely worse.

It probably didn't help that I was there when we showed up at the convenience store and saw her. She hadn't even noticed I was in there, and from the way she was walking… There was a gun under that jacket. This would be her first convenience store hold-up.

I nodded to Cas, and stood in front of the girl as she pulled out the gun. "You don't want to do that." I cautioned, keeping my voice low as I quickly took the gun from her. Castiel acted just as fast, grabbing her arm from behind and spinning her around. The pair glared at each other, almost oblivious to the cashier guy who was beginning to stare.

Until I made the slightest eye contact with Cas, and flicked my eyes over to the man.

"Excuse us." Cas said to the guy at the register. I turned around, flashing him my best smile.

"Little sister. Thought we'd lost her!" I relaxed slightly when I saw him smile back as we ushered Claire out of the store. The second we were outside, though, Claire took down her hood and started to walk away.

"Claire, wait!" Castiel shouted after her.

"Screw you!" She shot back.

"Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus. Settle." Dean said, stopping her from going any farther.

"Eat me, Hasselhoff." Claire dared him. I smirked, taking a few steps back to leave the guys to it. Claire didn't know me, but she knew them. At this moment, my best choice of action would be to not say anything for now.

When she reached for the gun, and pulled out nothing, I watched her search until her eyes landed on me. "You." She stated. "Who are you?"

"My name is Kylie." I answered, giving her my kindest smile. She scoffed at it.

"Who do you belong to, Sam or Dean?" She asked. I didn't answer, and watched as she turned from Sam to Dean to Cas before piecing it all together. "No." She muttered. "GROSS! My father was a good man, and here you are parading around in his body shacking up with a girl that could pass as my older sister?!" She asked. "In what messed up world does he have to die and you get to live and pretend to enjoy a normal pervy life?!"

"I'm sorry." Castiel apologized. Claire just shook her head.

"No. You feel guilty. There's a difference." She replied, turning to stalk away.

"So what?" Sam asked. "Now you run back to Randy? The guy you steal for?" I'd heard of Randy before. He was the type of guy to always get in way over his head with loan sharks, and burn those around him to pay off his debts. He wasn't a guy I'd want anybody believing had their backs.

"How do you know about that?" She asked, uncertain now.

"Dustin." Dean answered.

"Claire, that man is using you." Castiel warned. I nodded.

"This guy is bad news. If he's in with Salinger then it's even worse, and you're going to get hurt because of it." I told her. She turned on all of us, as I could see venom in her eyes.

"Where do you go telling me what he's like?" She asked me. "You're just some chick that's into older guys. Randy was there for me." Claire told us. "When things got bad—and they got REAL damn bad—he was there when no one else was. HE'S my family. And you're just … you can all go to hell."

When Claire left, nobody followed her. I was about to, to try and stop her, but Castiel put a hand out in front of me. "Let her go." He requested softly. I looked up at him and saw the absolute defeat in his eyes. For a moment I could see him as human, see the look of a father that believed he'd failed his daughter.

Sam and Dean saw it too, and took him to the bar. I told them I'd catch up later, that I wanted to do some research and learn our next move.

It wasn't until I got back to the room I was sharing with Cas that I saw the scratch marks up and down my arms. I didn't understand where they'd come from until I put my own fingernails in their place.

I'd been itching at myself, itching like I had chicken pox or something, and hadn't even noticed it.

"What in the literal hell?" I asked, looking at how my fingernails matched up perfectly with the scratches. As I looked, I could feel it getting more and more itchy, everywhere around me, as though there were ants crawling up and down my skin.

"Dean." I muttered. Sam had told me about how he liked to play pranks. I called him up quickly, and heard the familiar sounds of the bar in the background.

"Hey, you got something?" He asked.

"No, not yet." I answered. "Still looking. I was just calling to see how you guys were doing." For some reason, I felt as though it would be a bad idea to state my intentions for calling directly.

"Kylie, it's only been 15 minutes." Dean reminded me. "What could possibly have happened?"

"Well, it's you guys." I pointed out in response. "I'm pretty certain you guys have flip-flopped across all ends of the weird spectrum in less time doing less harmful things like going out for a drink."

"Fair enough." Dean conceded. "Well, everything is fine, mom," I smiled a little at the ribbing. "And your boyfriend is alright too."

"If I'm mom, does that make Cas your dad?"

"Don't even go there, I don't want to think about that." Dean answered fast. I laughed.

"Oh, hey, before I forget," I kept my voice as nonchalant as possible. "Did you or Sam put itching powder in my clothes?"

"I didn't, and that's not really Sam's style." Dean answered. "Why? Feeling twitchy."

"Just itchy. I might've managed to get poison ivy or something on my clothes anyways." I looked down. They weren't nice clothes, just normal street clothes. "Who knows."

"And you thought to automatically accuse us?" Dean feigned hurt.

"Nair in Sam's shampoo." I responded, remembering the story he'd told me. "Itching powder in his clothes. Missing douche money clip."

"Hey, the clip was Gabriel." Dean protested. When I didn't answer, he continued. "But I get your point. No, it wasn't us."

"Alright. Well, I'm gonna get back to looking in to a few things." I answered. "See how far in Randy is and which possible Sharks will come to collect."

"Alright. Good luck." He hung up shortly, and I looked at the scratches in the mirror once more.

I'd been wearing a long sleeved jacket. How in the hell had I managed to scratch through the freaking fabric?

I pushed it aside, choosing to do what I could to search for Randy and Claire. I found the address without a lot of difficulty (and without magic, much to my happiness), and looked in to who else was showing up there. Randy was definitely in debt to someone.

Salinger.

It was Salinger.

I called Dean and Sam quickly after that. Sam picked up. "We've gotta get to Claire, now." I urged him. "Salinger calls in his pays on Thursday nights, and tonight is a Thursday night. If Randy doesn't have the money, and I know Randy, I've heard of him, he never has the money. He uses people to get it, and uses them as collateral when he doesn't have cash. He's going to use Claire."

"Kylie, slow down a little bit. What do you mean?" He asked.

I packed away a few things in a bag quickly before moving towards the door. "We need to get there, and get there now." I summed up. "I'll text you the address, but we need to get there. Randy is going to use Claire to pay his debts."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Salinger isn't gay, as Wiener Hut kid isn't that needy." I locked the door quickly behind me, and headed out to the car.

"We're on our way."

I hung up after that, starting the car and absolutely flooring it.

I'd run with Randy before, and been in debt to Salinger. I'd been where Claire was going to be right now.

I shuddered at the memory, and did my best to make the car go faster.


	13. Randy and Salinger

I beat Sam and Dean there, slamming the door as I stalked in. Randy was at the table in front of Salinger, both turning to face me. I could see the look of surprise on Randy's face, followed by Salinger's trademark creepy smile.

"Kai." He said, smiling.

"Salinger." I stared him down, fighting back the fear from years ago, when I was still homeless and younger and had had to turn to them for refuge.

"You grew up nicely." He commented.

"You're still a pervert." I retorted. "And you're not getting anywhere near Claire."

"How do you know my girl?" Randy asked.

"Shut up, Randy."

"Oooh. Little Kai got claws now." Randy added.

"I'm here to get Claire and take her home."

"This is her home." Randy answered. "And I'm her," I cut him off before he finished.

"Her dad? Her guardian?" I asked. When he didn't answer, I scoffed. "Please. You ran this same game with me years ago, just like this."

"Claire is helping the family, something you took for granted." Randy answered.

"Sure missed you though, Kai." Salinger added, tutting. He motioned to his men, and two of them trained guns on me. "Now, unless you plan on paying off Randy's debt, again," I fought back a wave of sickness at that comment. "I'm going to go and collect on sweet Claire."

"Don't." I ordered. Salinger just laughed.

"Then what's it gonna be?" He asked. "You or her? I mean, personally, I prefer newer, and younger," he looked me up and down. "What are you, 20 now? An adult?"

"Do you care?"

"Not particularly." He conceded. "So, what's your choice?"

"Let me talk to her." I requested. "After that… I'll pay the debt. But just let me talk to her first, and then you guys are going to let her go."

"I like what you're selling, I really do Kai," Sal commented. "And props on growing up and toughening up, I find the whole bad girl vibe hot. But here's the thing," he glanced over at Randy. "You're not one of Randy's anymore, and its Randy here that needs to learn a lesson about paying their debts. I have to make an example somehow, don't I?" He asked. "Besides, we've already come to an accord."

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her." I said, taking a step forwards. I heard two guns cock simultaneously.

"Or what?" Sal asked. "A deal's a deal, after all."

"You're worse than a demon." I spat, glaring at him. Sal just laughed.

"Demons don't exist, sweetheart." He responded, taking a few steps towards me. He grabbed me roughly by the chin, still leering. "There are no gods or demons, I thought you'd have figured that out by now. There's just people who take what they want, and people who are willing to give what they have." He watched for a moment before dropping my face, turning instead to Randy. "What room is she in?"

"Upstairs." Randy answered. "First one on the left."

"I'll be upstairs, then." Salinger smiled, winking at me. "You can take her when I'm done. She'll probably need a good feminine influence, someone who can tell her what to do after, you know?"

"I hate you." I seethed, wishing the guns were closer. If they were just a little closer, or if I had some fucking ingredients…. I could waste them all. But the guns were out of reach, both physically and time-wise, and I had nothing to use for magic.

I had my blades, but I didn't want to kill them.

I just wanted Randy and Salinger dead.

"How can you do this, Randy?" I asked him, watching the bastard just sit there, emotionless. "Again, even."

"It's whatever pays the bills, Kai." He answered, his face emotionless. I could feel his words like a slap across my face. "You know that."

"You just sold a girl who trusted you to a man that's going to rape her." I stated.

"I know."

"I've seen where people like you go, and I promise you're going to burn." I laughed at him. "I've seen who's in charge of your future, and I promise it's not God. Salinger is only right about one thing, and it's that God has left the building. The angels are assholes, and the demons are going to laugh as they flay you alive."

"When did you get so self-righteous and religious?" He asked in response.

That was when the door flew off its hinges behind me, narrowly missing myself but definitely pegging one of the two gunmen. I turned, smiling as I unsheathed my blades.

Castiel stood in the doorframe, striding in full of righteous anger and fury. Behind him were Sam and Dean, both bearing their guns.

"Where is she?" Castiel asked, staring down Randy.

"She's upstairs." I told him, running to grab his hand. "Come on." Sam and Dean stayed downstairs as we ran up, and I got to watch Cas blow another door in.

We got Claire out before anything happened, something I was eternally grateful for. We rushed her downstairs, and she got in one last look at Randy.

I stared him down with hatred, and stayed in as Castiel took her out of the house. Sam followed not long after, leaving myself and Dean in to keep the others at bay. Dean turned to me as though he was about to tell me to leave as well, but one look at the fury in my eyes made him keep his mouth shut.

They didn't know how personal this was.

It was in that moment of him looking at me that somehow Salinger snuck up on Dean. I saw him and shouted for Dean to watch out, but it was useless. Salinger smashed a beer bottle on the back of Dean's head, and I felt a rough pair of arms grab me from behind a second later.

"You know what, Kai?" Salinger asked, sauntering towards me. He was bleeding from where Claire had broken his nose. "I think I'll let you pay Randy's debt after all, but first you're gonna watch me beat the shit out of your friend here."

I looked over at Dean, and saw something change in him. He was staring at the Mark, and his eyes were glassy. Salinger didn't notice a thing as he walked up, grabbing me once more by the chin and forcing a kiss on me. When I felt him try to jam his tongue down my throat, I bit it. He howled in pain and slapped me. "You're gonna pay for that, bitch."

"You don't want to do this." Dean's voice was distant, slightly pained. Salinger looked over to see Dean, his head barely raised to look at him.

I saw Dean's face. I saw how tight he was holding himself, as though every fiber in him was a live wire waiting to break free.

I could see the Mark start to glow, ever so slightly, as Salinger walked towards Dean, laughing.

"Don't do it!" I shouted, watching his foot rear back. It wasn't Salinger I was talking to, though.

It was Dean.

And as Salinger slammed his foot in to Dean's face, I knew it was over. I knew the second I watched Dean get up. I flipped my angel blade around, slamming it in to the guy behind me. He howled in pain, but wasn't dead.

Dean screamed at me, shouting for me to leave, now. I watched the Mark pulsate more brightly, and I realized I had nothing to defend myself with beside my blades, and that wasn't going to work. Dean could outmatch me, easily, and with the Mark on him…

If it turned to a fight he could kill me accidentally, and I wouldn't be able to do anything to stop him.

So I sprinted, knowing I wouldn't last if I stayed in that room. I screamed Sam's name, sprinting towards the car, and heard screams behind me. Screams that weren't mine, nor Deans, but definitely Salinger's and Randy's.

Sam ran towards me, and I watched as Claire and Cas followed. Sam sprinted past me, and I did my best to stop Claire from going.

I couldn't, though. She and Cas stood in the doorway, and bore witness to the carnage that had happened within maybe three minutes.

Salinger was dead.

Randy was dead.

Everyone was dead that had been in that room except for Dean, who was on his knees in the middle of it all.

I pulled Claire away as quickly as I could, and had Castiel follow me to shield her. Together, we both got her back to me and Cas' car, where she just broke down completely. I put an arm around her, and she shoved it off roughly, burying her face in Castiel's coat. Cas and I shared a look, one that promised a conversation later, after Claire was ok.

Cas did his best to soothe Claire, and I drove us all back to the motel after getting a text from Sam to go. She was asleep by the time we got there, her face still wet with tears.

"Are you alright?" Cas asked me quietly. I shook my head, staring at the steering wheel. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now." I answered, turning to look at Claire. "Let's get her inside. We'll talk in the morning, I promise."

"Thank you for going after her." He said. We all got out of the car, with Castiel carrying Claire effortlessly. I opened the door for them, and Cas placed Claire as gently as he could on the single bed in the room.

"I just wish we'd gotten to her sooner." I answered, glancing over at her again. I could see Salinger's leering face in the back of my mind, from tonight and from a different night years ago, before I'd met Cas.

"Kylie," Castiel's voice was hesitant. "Something happened, didn't it? Before we met you. That's how you knew so much about Salinger and Randy."

"I'm going to sleep in the car tonight." I avoided after a few moments, choosing to not make eye contact. "It'll be better if I do. She trusts you. She doesn't trust me, and most certainly won't trust Dean for a long time."

"Alright." Castiel conceded, his voice heavy and tired. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing a pillow and heading back out to the car.

I slept fitfully, still seeing Salinger in my mind, both nights bleeding together like some hellish canvas.

 _That same smile, that one he wore that just screamed filth and sin and perversion, gripping my chin roughly, as though I was some object to him._

 _"It's whatever pays the bills, Kai," Randy, speaking at the table, speaking behind Salinger as he stood in the doorway. "You know that."_

 _"You're going to grow up nicely." Salinger's comments as he stared me up and down that night._

 _"You grew up nicely." Tonight's Salinger, that same leering smile._

 _Screams. Female screams, I couldn't tell if they were mine or Claire's. So much screaming, so much fear._

 _Slaps across my face, tonight and a long time ago. Rough slaps, ones that left bruises across my face the next morning._

 _I begged for God or Randy or anyone to save me. "There are no gods or anyone, sweetheart. There's just people who take what they want, and people who are willing to give what they have." Randy said. "And I'm about to take what you're willing to give me."_

 _Nobody came to get me out that night, though. I felt pain, awful pain. Pain and screaming as I ran out in to the night._

I woke up with a start, gasping for breath.

I decided to forgo sleep after that.


	14. Claire Doesn't Hate Or Like Me

**TRIGGER WARNING: HEAVILY IMPLIED BUT NOT IMPLICITLY STATED PAST RAPE/ABUSE**

 **IT'S, LIKE, MOSTLY NEAR THE VERY END, BUT IF YOU JUST WANT TO SKIP THIS WHOLE CHAPTER FEEL FREE TOO. I'LL MARK WHERE IT HITS IT DIRECTLY WITH BIG BOLD XXXXXXXXXX's BEFORE THE SPOT, THOUGH, IF YOU WANT TO SKIP OVER IT.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

When Claire ran off, I went looking. Castiel was trying to work out something to fix Dean from the Mark, and that was important. I promised him I'd look after her, I'd find her and make sure it was all going to be alright. I called her, left voicemails, tried to coordinate with Dean as per Castiel's request.

We both got calls back, asking to meet her at a lakeside place. I rode shotgun with Dean, and we both sat down at a picnic table there.

When I heard her shout, I turned and saw myself face to face with an incoming baseball bat. I shoved Dean to the side, ducking myself and sweeping low in the process. I heard the sound of metal impaling itself in wood, and out of the corner of my eye I could barely see another guy wielding an axe.

Axe guy reared up for another swing as I moved, grabbing the girl with the bat in a chokehold with her own weapon. Dean fought off the other guy, narrowly missing an axe swing but in the process taking the weapon from him. One swift shove and he was down on the ground, Dean looming above him with the axe.

I was about to scream for him to stop, but Claire beat me to it, running towards Dean. He took a glance at her, and I watched our assailants share a look. Dean caught it too, and swung downwards.

The axe embedded itself back in that picnic table, this time for good. I shoved the girl towards the other guy, and we watched them scramble off. "Claire!" I shouted, walking over. Her and Dean shared a look before Dean stalked back off to the car. Claire, in turn, ran back in to a little camper. I heard the door slam and lock soundly behind her.

I followed Dean, almost sprinting after him. "Hey, we need to talk to her." I told him. He shrugged me off. "Dean! We need to talk, talk to Claire and about the Mark and everything."

"Claire just tried to kill us, Kylie." Dean responded as we neared the car. "That was a hit, and I would've killed them if I'd needed to."

"But you didn't."

"Do you think that's how Claire is gonna see that?" He asked. "She saw me that night, in the middle of it all. As far as she's concerned, I caused her surrogate dad to die, and helped her actual dad get done in as well."

"That's why we need to talk to her!" I urged. Dean shook his head, getting in the car.

"I came here to talk, just like you did, and she tried to kill us!" Dean exclaimed. "Not just me, you too! So I'm leaving," he started the car, emphasizing his words. "And I'm going to let her be a skulky little runaway. You can come with me or not, your choice."

I walked around to the driver's side, where Dean had closed his door and rolled his window down. "Tell Sam and Cas I'll be back soon." I said. Dean just shrugged, and I moved away as he put his car in gear.

I watched him roar off before turning back to the camper and Claire. The lock itself was easy to pick, much easier than normal. Must just be the shitty camper lock. I walked in to see Claire packing away a few things in a bag.

"Claire," I said her name softly, and she just kept packing. "Claire, we need to talk."

"I don't need to talk to you." She answered roughly, not looking at me.

"You asked us to meet you here, where they were people with an axe and a baseball bat waiting." I stated, standing my ground as I crossed my arms. "We need to talk."

"I didn't think they would try to kill you." She argued.

"But you knew they were there."

"They were trying to help me." She tried to walk towards the door, but I blocked her path. "What, am I a prisoner in here now?"

"No." I responded. "But we're still gonna talk."

"Fine? You wanna talk?" She asked, dropping her bag. "You have five minutes."

"I have more than that." I responded. "After all, I'm still in front of the door."

"I thought you said I wasn't trapped."

"You're not," I agreed. "But we're talking, and I'm going to treat you like an adult for this because I've been in your exact shoes, I know that's how you want to be treated, and adults sit down and take however long they need to talk out a problem until some sort of understanding is reached." I leaned against the door, my arms still crossed. "So take a seat. We're probably going to be here a while."

Claire stared at me, watching to see if I was serious. When I didn't budge, she took a seat on the couch, and I stayed where I was.

I've been her before. If it was me, the second the blockade moved from the door I'd be out and running. She already had her bag within arm's reach.

"Tell me what's wrong." I requested.

"Cas killed my dad, Dean killed my second dad, and you're banging the guy who killed my dad, still in his body." She stated simply. "What's not wrong about that?"

"Claire, can I tell you a story?" I asked.

"Does it end in rainbows and the two of us walking out of here with a happy newfound relationship?" She asked sarcastically in response. I shook my head.

"It ends in blood and pain, because life is pain." I told her. "Anybody who says otherwise is selling something."

Claire scoffed after a moment. "Nice reference, Westley."

"It's still true." I said, taking a seat next to the door. I watched Claire eye it for a minute, but I had her attention now.

So I told her about the night my family died. I told her about demons and how there was no angel there to save me and my mom, no god or anybody. I told her about how I ran. I told her about when I'd been running with Randy and Salinger, way back when.

I told her about how Randy had me pay off his debts too. How I stole for him, learned to avoid being arrested for them, learned how to just narrowly miss getting picked up by Social Services and the like.

I told her about how Randy sold me to Salinger to pay off the rest of the debts he didn't lift a finger to fix himself. I didn't tell her details, just that I hadn't had anybody behind my back like she had.

I told her about how I got picked up by an officer not long after that, one who didn't arrest me but instead just helped me out and helped me get out of town, where Randy and Salinger couldn't find me.

I told her about how I spent years of my life looking over my shoulders for demons.

I told her about how my best friends died because of me.

I told her everything.

After I finished, the sun had set. I got up, leaving her to her thoughts for a few moments, and rooted around to see what might be in the camper to make tea. "Look, I know I'm not perfect, and I know Cas isn't your dad, and I know that Dean looks like a monster right now, but you've got to give us some faith." I turned back around, and she was still sitting there, thankfully. "I don't want to be any surrogate mom or big sister for you, I'm literally only three years older and that would be weird." She laughed a little at that, and I relaxed, turning back around. There they were, some hot tea bags and two questionable mugs. "But I know that Cas wants to be a part of your life, in some way. Maybe not as a father figure, but as a figure that you don't hate, you know?" I decided to wash the mugs. They definitely could use it.

"How do I do that?" Claire asked. I shrugged, turning back to face her as I washed.

"Do you hate me?" I asked. She shrugged. "But you did, at first."

"Yeah."

"And now you just… I'm just here, I guess, kind of like how your hair is just there on your head or how the dirt is just there on your clothes." I decided. "Not something you particularly care about too much unless it's seriously cool or seriously bothersome."

"Yeah." Claire nodded. "I can see that."

"Do you think you can see Cas that way?" I asked, turning off the tap. The mugs looked pretty good, now. Definitely something that could have tea drunk from it. I dried off the outsides and filled them with water as Claire thought.

We drank tea together in silence. I didn't prod her for an answer. When we were finished, I scribbled Rodriguez's cell phone number and a list of his general hangouts on a piece of paper. "He's a good guy." I explained, reaching in to my pocket. I pulled out a small wad of twenties, and handed it to her along with the paper. "Little nutty sometimes, but an all-around good guy. He's out in California, which I know is a long way away hitchhiking, but it's a start, and the communities there aren't half bad when you find the right ones. Rod will help you find the right ones." I smiled, watching her fist close around the money and paper.

"My number is on there as well, in case you need to call." I continued. "Don't feel pressured or anything, but it's an option, you know? In case you have a hard time finding Rodriguez, or decide on a different state and need any information." I got up, and grabbed her near-empty cup to clean.

She didn't say thank-you when she left, she didn't need to. I understood she didn't know how just yet. She just left as I cleaned the cups, as quietly as possible.

I called Cas after I'd finished cleaning, letting him know that she would be fine, that I'd found and talked to her. He sounded grateful, and I promised I'd meet him back at the Bunker soon. He asked if I was alright, and I nodded.

"I think I'm doing better." I admitted. I still hadn't told him about Salinger and Randy yet, but I would when I got back to the Bunker.

About two or three hours of walking later Cas pulled up beside me. "Need a lift?" He asked, smiling. I smirked at him.

"You know I probably cost more than you can afford, right?" I asked in response. The confusion on his face was priceless as he struggled to formulate a response.

"I… I…" He stammered for words. "I have money." He offered weakly. I laughed, hopping in to the shotgun seat with ease.

"Just drive, Cas." I urged, still laughing quietly. He did, asking questions as we went.

"What does that mean?" He asked, watching my laughter. "What is so funny?"

"It's a pimp joke for your pimp car." I answered.

"Oh." Castiel thought about that for a moment before frowning. "But that would imply you to be a prostitute."

"That's the joke." I explained.

"But you are not a prostitute." He answered, casting me a side glance. "You're my girlfriend, and you won't ever have to be a prostitute."

"Cas," I shook my head, looking down a little. When I felt his hand on my shoulder, I looked over at him. He cast me a serious glance.

"I mean it." He said. I took a deep breath, thinking.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXTHIS IS YOUR WARNINGXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What do you know?"

"I remember what you told me," he answered, referencing when we'd first met in that alley. "That you bounced around unsavory groups. You were not much more specific than that."

"About two or three months before the demon attacks started up again, I was running with Randy." I explained. "I robbed a gas station, I learned how to not get caught, I stole and cheated and did everything I could to help him pay his debt to Salinger. I couldn't get enough, though." I shook my head. "And I was the collateral."

"Are you alright?" He asked. I nodded.

"It was a long time ago, and I got away that night after that." I finished, shaking my head clear. "But I always hoped that they would both get what they deserved, and I guess eventually they did. That's the life, sometimes, when you don't have anyone else. You fall in with whoever offers food and a bed and a safe place to stay, and don't question too much because you don't know how. They weren't the first or only bad crew I fell in with," I thought back to the gangs in different cities that I'd run with for short times. "But that night was the worst. That was when I learned that I was going to have to make it myself, and not rely on anybody helping me when they could save their own skin instead."

"But I would." Cas pointed out. I smiled, reaching up to entwine my fingers with his.

"Yeah, you would." I agreed, looking over at him. "You showed me otherwise."

We drove back to the Bunker in silence. Neither of us slept, I don't think we could've if we wanted to.

I did my best to ignore the scratches that had appeared on my arms again, going down to my legs. Castiel didn't say anything, he knew that Dean and I had been attack and probably racked it up to that.

But I knew that they still fit my hands perfectly, that I had been the one scratching at myself.

I just didn't know when or why.


	15. BradBuryBunny

I got an email almost a week later, from BradBuryBunny. She was sorry she hadn't gotten in touch sooner, she'd just gotten back from a long trip, and she was wondering if I could find any info on something for her like how Danny would sometimes.

I said yes immediately. Castiel was out on angel business trying to repair problems that Dean had caused with Metatron, Dean and Sam were out headed to Topeka for something or other (it was personal. I wasn't allowed to come), and I was trying to stop having scratches show up on my body. The distraction from BradBuryBunny was a welcome one.

So I started looking in to a cold case she'd sent me, a hit-and-run that killed a little girl's parents way back when. The driver had been drunk, never found, and the girl had had all sorts of mental evaluations. She'd disappeared later, escaping the system.

The picture of the girl looked so… she looked like a normal girl. One that had been through too much.

BradBuryBunny wanted me to find the identity of the driver. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask. I kind of just didn't want to.

A few days after that I got a call from Sam.

"How do you know Charlie?" He asked, forgoing the hi.

"Nice to talk to you too, Sam." I replied. "How's the hunt going?"

"I'm not kidding, Kylie." He argued. "How do you know Charlie?"

"I have an ex-boyfriend named Charlie," I offered. "But I really don't think that that's who you're talking about."

"Charlie Bradbury." He clarified.

"I still don't know any Bradburys, unless you're talking about Ray." I said.

"Then why does she have an encrypted email from you talking about a hit-and-run incident?"

"Wait, wait, wait," I said. "You mean BradBuryBunny? She's a friend of a friend, one that I got the email from when Danny died." I said. "How did you know about the case?"

"Lucky guess." He retorted. I rolled my eyes. "Look, what names did you give her?"

"I told her that there was something fishy with how a woman was involved, Barbara Cordry." I answered. "I haven't heard back from her. Why?"

"I need you to hack in to her bank accounts." He answered. "I'll send you the statements to look in to. We need to know who made them."

I did as I was asked, and gave him the name of a man whose car had been stolen, Russell Wellington. The guy took two weeks off of work in this same time frame, showed up in bad shape afterwards, and his car was never recovered.

"Great. Thanks." He said. "I'm gonna be there in a few hours or so with a friend. Can you keep watch of her?"

"Yeah, sure, what's her name?" I asked.

"Charlie."

"Huh?" I was so confused. Sam just sighed.

"It's a long story. I'll explain it when I get there." He said.

"Alright. I'll get the spare room ready." With that, the line went dead.

Charlie Bradbury had short red hair (I was so jealous. I love red hair), was definitely taller than me, and knew who Danny was. She explained the whole Oz situation to me (definitely weird, but not impossible to me anymore), how there were two of her, how I'd been helping the bad Charlie, and after that we just kind of reminisced.

"How did she die?" Charlie asked. I leaned back in my chair as Sam did research. He understood that Charlie and I needed this.

"She helped me track down a demon." I told her. "They killed her in retaliation."

"Oh." She thought about that for a moment. "That's bad."

"Yeah, it is." I agreed. "She wanted me to email you. You were her favorite hacker friend, you know?"

"Really?"

"Yeah." I remembered the stories Danny would tell me. Her and BBB just trolled the hell out of these World of Warcraft douches. Her and BBB had just funneled money from McDonalds in to a healthy eating charity. Her and BBB had reset all the teleprompters at news stations to spout random lines from Star Wars for the next three days. Her and BBB, those were some of her favorite stories.

"She was my favorite hacker too." Charlie admitted with a small sigh. "We never met, but I always wanted to. Was she cute?" I pulled up a picture of me and Danny that I had saved in my phone, and showed it to her. Charlie smiled. "I was always a little shy when it came to asking girls out. I wish I had, now."

"I bet she would've said yes." I wasn't lying, either. Danny was Danny. She would've said yes in a heartbeat.

"Da," she paused, about to say "damn," before correcting herself. "Darn."

"You want me to get you anything?" I offered, getting up.

"No, no, you don't have to do anything!" She urged.

"Charlie, relax." I told her. "Beer?" She shook her head, and I remembered I was talking to Good Charlie. "Water? Coffee? Tea?"

"Water." She said after a few moments of thought. "Water is good."

So I grabbed her water, and we just… Talked for a few hours. Honest-to-God girl talk that I hadn't had in a long while. She asked about my relationship with Castiel, and wanted to know everything about it. So I told her how he'd screamed that first "I love you," how he saved my life more than once, how we planned to get an apartment together.

"We haven't really talked about that a lot recently." I admitted. "I like the Bunker, I really do, and I enjoy being so close to everything. It's economically smart to stay here, after all no rent to pay and no 9-5 job, hell, I don't even pay bills!" I laughed, deciding to quickly continue in case she thought tax evasion was bad. "But at the same time, I can't help but kind of want that a little bit, you know? Want the apartment, want the 9-5, even want the bills and the traffic and shitty work days and crappy takeout that's faster than actually cooking because we're both so tired." I shook my head, smiling at the thought. "It's just not an option anymore, really. It was when we were both human, and when Cas tried to give up hunting and disappear in to that normal human life. But Cas has angel things to fix with Metatron and Heaven and so many other things, and I'm…" I shrugged. "I'm here. I'm supportive. I drive out to Salina or Manhattan or Topeka and get money or food."

"Are you happy?" She asked. I looked at her, surprised.

"Of course I am. Perfect boyfriend, life that's never boring, and to top it all off I don't have some asshole boss busting my butt to raise sales up that extra dollar-fifty." I answered. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Because you're lying," she stated, shivering. "And lying is bad. You're not happy, not fully."

"Nobody is ever fully happy." I reminded her. "This is real life after all, not some crappy movie or book or TV show destined to have a happy ending wrapped up in a nice and pretty bow."

"But you can be fully happy." She argued. "Not permanently, but in moments and minutes and sometimes an hour, if you're lucky."

I shrugged, feeling the need to end this topic now. "I probably just miss Cas." I decided. "He's been gone on angel business a lot, I don't see him much."

"Alright." Charlie conceded, trying to hide that shiver again. I pretended I didn't see it.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to go grab some books." I told her. "I've been working on archiving and getting them all in a spreadsheet, that way they're easier to look up."

"Can I help?" She asked, sounding excited. I nodded, and passed her my computer. "Do your thing, girl." I urged as I got up for books.

She left with Sam a few hours later. I got an email from her the next day saying she had already left and moved on, but wanted to keep in touch.

I leaned back and smiled quietly. "I am happy." I said decisively, nodding a little as I spoke. "I am."

I kept repeating those words quietly in my head as I began to search for an apartment somewhere in Topeka or Salina or Manhattan.


	16. Scratches

When Cas came back, we were dealing with Cain. I hadn't ever met him before, only heard of him. Cas didn't want me there.

I pretended that that didn't sting a little bit.

I understood his reasoning, of course. Cain was the first murderer, the literal father of it. He was the one who bore the Mark first. Apparently he'd started going on a killing spree again. If Dean was anything to go off of for what Cain was like…

Yeah, I could understand Castiel's reasoning for not wanting me there.

It didn't make me any happier, though.

I had my own valid reasons for not wanting to be there if I wanted to avoid it, though. The scratches were getting worse, much worse. I was starting to have nightmares about things crawling out of my skin, not bugs but shadows and smoke and sparks and inhuman shapes and howls, all seeping out of these scratches I would wake up seeing etched deep in my skin.

I started wearing long sleeves, long flannel over my shirts like the Winchesters did. It was getting colder anyways. I could get away with wearing long sleeves more frequently without raising suspicion.

Not that the brothers paid much attention to me anyways.

I was starting to understand how Kevin felt. Always cooped up in the Bunker, kept out of the action for archiving work and stifling protection. The only bright side to it all was that I'd finally almost finished cataloguing all the books and getting them set up in a spreadsheet on my computer.

It still didn't help the scratches though. I was actually catching myself now, and seeing my own hands scratch the skin. I put tape over my fingernails, but that actually made it worse.

I wore mittens and gloves at one point, and stood in front of the mirror as I felt agonizing pain.

I watched the scratches form on my skin without me doing it, watched them just… Appear. Etch and engrave themselves in to my skin, still the exact same distance apart from each other as they were when I did them myself.

Or had I been doing them myself?

I started hitting the books, looking through for "magical scratches" anywhere. I considered, for a moment, calling Crowley, but decided against it.

He would just use this against me.

But I couldn't find anything in the books, couldn't find anything in any books, and resigned myself to bandaging up my arms instead. The cuts and scratches were there, but they never bled. It was just… Like multiple rips on my arms.

So whether Castiel liked it or not, I was getting out of the Bunker. Maybe it was just a confinement thing or something. Maybe I was hallucinating. After all, they never bled.

I couldn't bandage my arms, though. Cas would notice, and demand that I let him heal me, then see the scratches and have questions I couldn't answer. So I stuck with long sleeves as we set up the trap for Cain.

I barely hid my disdain when Crowley ordered for my help. "You're here, and you know magic, so you're going to set up the Rune of Amarath."

"I thought you had tricks too. Why can't you do it?" I asked, earning slightly surprised looks from Sam and Dean.

"Because I'm a demon, and it doesn't work for demons." He answered. "Now, are you going to be a whiny little prat about it and be useless or are you going to give your boy-toy a reason to stop glaring about your presence?"

I glanced over at Cas, but he didn't say anything.

"Fine." I agreed, marching past the demon in to the building. He followed quietly, waiting until we were out of earshot to speak.

Or rather, grab my flannel and pull it off me quickly.

"Hey!" I shouted, turning to him. In an instant I had my blades from their sheathes and in my hands.

"Just as I thought." He murmured, staring at my arms. I looked down and saw the scratches were there, prominent and deep and… glowing that same red my hand had. "You've been abstaining from magic."

"Your point?" I asked.

"Without having an angel's health tethered to you, you'd be fine," Crowley explained. "However, with his angelic grace throwing feedback on your spell, it's keeping a lot of power cooped up inside a weak vessel. The scratches are a new one though," he remarked. "Usually a weakening vessel is shown through facial sores and rashes. I don't suppose you've recently been diagnosed with a…. sexual disease, have you?"

I fought the urge to stab him, and instead let out an indignant "No" at his smirk. "Just riling you up." He told me. "You need to start using magic again."

"I'll pass." I said. "I'm only doing this because Cain needs to be stopped."

"It'll only get worse, then." He warned, tossing me back my flannel. I put it on quickly, and felt slightly relieved when the scratches were out of sight. "Your angel is as healthy as can be, with a steady flow of stolen grace still running through his veins. Eventually, it'll kill you." Crowley laughed. "Finding his grace might do it, too."

"I'll be fine." I told him, turning away to keep walking.

"Starting to feel cooped up, caged in?" Crowley asked. I froze for a moment before I resumed walking, listening for the demon's footsteps as he caught up. "That's the magic in you, wanting to escape. You're all agitated and annoyed, even Castiel noticed," he let out a short chuckle. "Even though they all believe it's because the angel didn't want you here."

"Crowley, I swear to God," I muttered.

"God's gone, remember?"

"I swear to whoever is left on the board," I started, but Crowley cut me off.

"That would be Castiel and a scattered amount of other angels scrambling to figure out a social order." He interrupted, smirking. That was when I whirled around, pinning him against the wall with my blades crossing his neck.

"If I'm pent up like you said, then I need an outlet to release this energy." I stated, my voice slow and even. "And if you weren't currently useful to the Winchesters, I would use you as my own personal punching bag. So stop talking, keep walking, and hope I don't change my mind after I set up the damn spell." Crowley didn't say a word, but instead I felt something poking my stomach. When I looked down, he had the first blade in his hands, ready to stab me with the weapon.

"Get off." He ordered. I hesitated for maybe a moment before backing away, glaring as I sheathed my blades. In turn, he put the first blade back inside his jacket. "Next time, don't threaten the demon that's saving your sorry arse." He commented, striding past me. "I don't care how deadly Cain is. I'd rather let him kill me than let a little prat with a magic steroid like you order me around."

"Asshole." I muttered before following him. "I bet your own mother hated you as a kid."

I saw him freeze for a moment, and that was it. The next thing I knew, there was a fist at my jaw that knocked me sideways. I fell hard, and scrambled to pull out my blades again.

Crowley held the first blade to my throat instead, shaking his head. I could see absolute fury in his eyes; pure rage that I had honestly never seen within the demon before. "If I'm such an utter disgust and object of loathing, as you keep pointing out, then I would kill you again and again for laughs. And if I wasn't currently on Cain's hit list, I wouldn't even be here to help you sorry lot, and then where would you be? So stop talking, keep walking, and hope I don't change my mind after you set up the damn spell." He ordered, mimicking my words. "After all, you're only useful to me if you do what you're told."

"Kill me." I dared him. "See if the Winchesters let you leave alive after that."

"I'd rather show them the marks on your arms." He answered, a cruel smile forming on his lips. "And tell Castiel about your little secret."

When I didn't respond, he got up, nudging me roughly with his foot. "We have work to do." He stated. I glared at him, and he met my anger evenly with his own awful smirk, offering a hand as his foot stayed ready near me.

"Why have you left me alone recently?" I asked, curious.

"You haven't been needed and I've been busy." He answered. "Now you're needed, I'm still busy, and if you don't get up I can and will break your ribs before we continue." For emphasis, he nudged his foot a little closer to me.

I didn't take his hand, but I got up. There was still Cain out and about, and still work to be done.

Once the Rune of Amarath was set up, I felt… Good. Great. Excellent. On a whim, I took a look at the scratches on my arm, and watched as they faded and disappeared painlessly.

"You need to use your magic more." Crowley stated again. "Use it to heal your face, for starters." I put a hand to where he'd landed a punch, and felt it starting to swell and bruise already. "If you don't start using it regularly, the angel backlash combined with your own natural powers being cooped up inside your vessel will kill you."

"And after that?" I asked, slightly indignant.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Just use it."

So I healed my face, an easy spell that required only a few words and a hand to the injury. Sam, Dean, and Castiel never saw the injury, only learned that the Rune of Amarath was set up, and set up well. I'd done a hell of a job.

Not long after that night, Sam and Castiel had a plan to get Metatron and force him to help with curing Dean. I helped, offering the use of magic to track down the freaky-deaky mind-reader clairvoyant guy and do whatever else was needed for breaking in and out of Heaven.

I got a message from Crowley the day before we left to go through with it all. It was a voicemail on my phone, short and simple. "Good work. Keep using magic, and keep me informed on Metatron's status and whereabouts."


	17. Psychic-Proof Necklace

I checked my arms one more time before we left. No more scratches. I hadn't had them since I'd used the Rune of Amarath to make the projection of the kid, and since then I'd been doing minor spells – Tracking, sleep, freezing, and actually looking in to enchanting a normal blade to be more effective; seeing if there were runes I could carve or spells I could cast on it so that I could carry a spare that wouldn't be an angel blade, but would still pack a hell of a punch.

But even though I felt better (less cramped and pained), I felt worse with each spell. Like I was just a tool, just an arrow that was going to fly in the direction it was pointed whether I liked it or not.

Castiel seemed more OK having me with him this time, though. I missed him, he missed me, and if everything went according to plan there should be no problems. It was fun, meeting the psychic guy. I'd set up something beforehand, a test to see if a spell I'd read worked or not. It was a necklace with a penny through it, but it was supposed to protect my mind from anybody trying to listen.

"All I'm getting from you is . . . colors. Colors and her." The psychic guy, Pryce, said as jerked a thumb over at me for emphasis. Then his gaze switched to be glaring at me. "And you…" He stopped, and I saw his face change. "If he's an angel, what are you? I'm at least getting colors from him, but from you… Nothing."

I took a second and gripped the penny necklace before focusing on the lyrics to "Free Bird" in my head. Pryce shook his head. "What in the hell kind of freaky chick are you?" He asked. "And why Lynyrd Skynyrd?" I dropped the penny and smiled.

"Magic." I explained, removing the necklace. "I was curious if it would work."

"Now I'm reading you loud and clear." Pryce muttered, glaring at me more. "Witchy type, eh? I'm getting angel boy and more music from you, but the hippie over here?" He turned his gaze from me to Sam as I put back on the necklace. "I'm seeing some creep-ass hobbit-lookin' fella, a prison cell?"

"That's heaven's jail." Castiel explained.

"Heaven's got a freakin' jail?" Pryce asked. I nodded, remembering my own time in it as Sam verbally answered.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. And we're looking to break someone out of it."

"OK." Pryce sounded uncertain.

"We have an inside man, but we need your help to talk to him." That part I didn't know about. I glanced at Castiel, confused.

"And if I say no?" Pryce countered. I reached up to lightly grasp my necklace, focusing my thoughts again as Sam shrugged.

"You're the mind reader."

Pryce looked from him to me, serious concern on his face before he nodded and I let go of my necklace. "I'll get my crap." He scuttled inside, with myself, Sam, and Castiel following him.

"Psychic-proof necklace?" Castiel asked me quietly.

"Inside man?" I responded.

"You go first." Sam said as Pryce motioned to a table for us to sit at. We all took seats quietly.

"I was curious if it would work." I said calmly. "The spell was in a Men of Letters book."

"And if Dean had seen you doing this?" Sam asked.

"I would've told him that it was intended to block my thoughts from unwanted intrusions." I answered. "If I recall correctly, angels can do that too, right babe?" I asked, turning to Castiel.

"Yes." He answered begrudgingly. "May I?" He asked. I almost hesitated. What if it didn't work against angels? What if Castiel found out?

Fortunately, I didn't have to answer. Pryce came back in at that moment with "his crap" that he needed. "You can't be in the spell." He stated.

"What?"

"I heard you ask about their inside man. You didn't know the deceased." Pryce answered. "That and your witchy abilities will screw up the connection. Go wait outside or something. I need total concentration to make this work."

"You don't know the deceased either."

"I'm a medium." Pryce pointed out. "I don't need to. I'm just the telephone they're using to dial."

"Kylie," Sam implored. "Please."

"Fine. Toss me the keys so I'm sitting outside in the cold." Cas tossed me his keys with an apologetic look, and I caught them with ease.

"Thank you." Sam said.

"No problem." I walked out to the car, getting in to my usual passenger seat. Out of curiosity, I pulled out my notebook. I'd added to it since organizing the books, writing information about different creatures and monsters and spells. "Where is that one…" I muttered, flipping through. I'd done my best to keep it organized alphabetically.

"There it is." I found it, stopping in the "E" section. "Eavesdropping Spell." I smiled, looking through the options.

It was hex-bag based. I needed something in the house already. "Damn." I thought about it, flipping through a few more pages. Section "M," for maybe this will work. "Mind reading spell." I thought, reading my options. "Or," I flipped a few more. "Wings of Titania?" I could do either, but the mind reading involved needing a hair or something.

"Wings of Titania it is." I decided, focusing my head. I read the words a few times to make sure I understood them before speaking.

And by God it felt so weird. It was an odd Out-Of-Body experience, like being about to control a dream. Except this wasn't a dream, and I could faze through doors and walls.

Cool.

I… I guess the feeling was like flying. I flew through the car, through the walls of the house, so I was floating above the table that Pryce, Sam, and Castiel were seated at. Pryce asked if they had anything belonging to their mystery contact, and Sam pulled out… An old trucker hat.

With a bullet hole in the head.

I felt sick inside at that. They'd told me about Bobby a long time ago, and what had happened to him. Bobby had sounded like good people. I couldn't even begin to imagine how hard this was for Sam.

Pryce looked up, looked up directly at me. I told you to wait outside. I heard his voice in my mind as clear as a bell, and felt my stomach drop.

Then I was ejected, backwards, quickly through the walls and the door and back in my own body, my physical back pushing hard in to the seat as though I'd just been thrown there.

"Damn." I muttered.


	18. What's The Maddest Thing A Man Can Do?

I kept track of all the times I wanted to call Metatron a little bitch (72), all the times I or Cas almost punched him (33 for me, 57 for Cas), and all the times Metatron complained about humanity and whatever new aspect of it was belaboring him (158).

It was something that kept the car rides not quite so… difficult, as they could be.

They had an upside, though. The car rides really pushed me in to finding spells or charms to keep the ex-angel silent (times I tested out different spells – 27. Times they actually worked – 20), as well as different possible uses for his grace (82, none tested).

I'd started to keep a tackle box in Castiel's car, except instead of fishing lines and bobbers and hooks and weights, I kept different ingredients. The bigger ticket items, like Metatron's grace, I kept in a separate and lightweight (yet sturdy) metal box, with a combination lock on it that was a mixture of letters and numbers, eight spaces in total (W1TCH3CH). I kept that in the trunk, and the tackle box in the floorboard in front of whatever seat I was sitting in.

"How do we know for certain that he's got your grace?" I asked Cas late one night, after the cupid had attacked us, while Metatron slept in the backseat. We'd already hit 3 dead ends following the asshole's "possible hiding places," and were on our way to safe house possibility number four. I took a glance back at Metatron before Cas answered, seeing the bruising on his face from where the angel had hit him and remembering why I loved Castiel.

"He is the one that took it." Cas responded. "It would be pointless for him to waste it when he could use my grace against me as a possible bargaining chip."

"But Metatron is big on spells too, right? And I've found at least 82 big-ticket spells that an angel's grace could be used for. Immortality, for one." I reminded him. Castiel shook his head.

"We need to act as though he isn't lying, and that he still has my grace."

"Why?"

"Because I need to believe that he still has my grace, Kylie." He answered, glancing over at me. I could see desperation in his eyes, desperation and worry. "The situation with Dean is getting worse as time goes on."

"I'm still looking for a spell to stop that." I answered. "There was another big-ticket one where you can permanently remove the aggression in a person."

"The Mark is older than that, it wouldn't work." Castiel reminded me. "And that's another part of it."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Castiel sighed.

"When Dean was overtaken by the Mark, he almost killed you." Castiel answered. "And you almost died trying to keep me alive and healthy. I don't want you to start worrying about that again, start worrying about having to protect me and keep me healthy or risking your own life," I flinched inwardly at that. "Or have to worry about not being able to heal you on a hunt. I want you to be safe, and I want to be able to keep you safe and happy. I could've protected you so many times, if I still had my grace. I could've saved you so many times if I'd had it."

"Cas, you're not any less of a good person just because you don't have your grace." I told him.

"But I could still be doing better for you, and I want to do better." He answered. "I know we haven't seen each other as much for a while, and I hated that. I wish that I hadn't had to work to keep the angels placated, and now I'm running from them again and putting you in more danger. I wish that I could make decisions that would keep you safe, but I can't always do that." He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "When I get my grace back, I'll be able to protect you better, and not worry about keeping my distance to keep the angels from you."

"Is that why you haven't been around much?" I asked. "The angels?"

He hesitated before forcing the answer out. "Yes."

"Cas, I promise I can handle myself against the angels."

"Not when they get like this." He answered. "Not when it comes to the possibility of Nephilim, or a Cordziz Hoath," both of us flinched at those words. "Or anything that could… defile what it means to be an angel, in the eyes of the other angels."

"Who cares what they think?" I asked in response.

"I'm at odds with them again." Castiel responded. "I worked to placate them and return to be in better standing with them, just enough so that I could go back to being with you and have the angels overlook that it is not normal. They don't exactly understand what it means to love and be in love, or what it means to look upon anyone that is not an angel with feelings other than curiosity, watchfulness, and even partial ownership or betterness. But even then, with other angels it's not… It's not like this." He answered. "It's not actually love. Just liking more than normal."

"Cas," I thought for a moment before continuing. "I don't care what the other angels think. I don't care what they try to do. I love you, and I want to be with you." I stated. "And I don't care whether you have your grace or not. To me, you're absolutely perfect the way you are." I smiled, reaching over to grip his hand lightly. He took it, and glanced over at me with a small smile. "I'll support you on this just as much as you support me, but I don't want you doing this because you feel as though you are not good enough without it."

"Why should I look for my grace then?" He asked in response, letting go of my hand. I shrugged, withdrawing my hand to place it back on my lap.

"Why do you want to get your grace back?" I countered. When he didn't answer, I leaned my seat back a little bit. "It's late. I'm going to get some sleep." I told him. "Wake me up when the backseat bitch wakes up, if his whining doesn't already."

"I think that counts for at least half on your tally." He stated. I smiled, grabbing my notebook and pencil to draw a half-sized hash mark on the "little bitch" tally. Once I finished, I put it back in the floorboard in front of me, on top of the tackle box.

I didn't dream that night, but when I woke up Castiel was shaking me. We were in front of another library.

"We're here." He whispered. I smiled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. From outside the car, I heard the sound of mock retching.

"Gag me." Metatron requested. "Blind me and gag me and strike me deaf. I'd rather be put to the pain than witness… THAT." He gestured with his bound hands to Castiel and I, and in return I flipped him off.

"Princess Bride references don't make you any less of a baby, Metatron." I responded, getting out of the car. The library was run-down, obviously closed and out of use but still… filled with books, oddly enough.

I picked the lock on the door with ease, and we entered the place quietly.

"This would be the perfect place to crash if I was ever homeless again." I muttered, looking around. Books were everywhere, and nobody would miss them if some were stolen and sold, or if duplicates had pages torn out in the winter to use for fires or insulation.

"Oh, come on." Cas scoffed, glancing over at Metatron. "You expect me to believe that you hid my Grace in a library?"

"Nobody goes to libraries anymore." Metatron answered. "It's the safest place in the world."

"I hate to agree with him, but he's got a point." I commented. "And if it's a 24-hour library, they don't mind if you crash out in the nonfiction section every once-in-a-while. Just lay your head down in the middle of some pages, have a pen and notebook with you. If anyone looks, they'll think you're just an overworked and overstressed student."

Cas just turned on the lights, and I watched as he focused on the room around us. "I can feel my Grace." He stated. Both of us turned to face Metatron. "It's here, but you've hidden it somehow. Where is it?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." I glanced up at Cas, and he nodded towards me once. I pushed Metatron in to a chair, and moved fast to place my thumb directly on where he'd been shot and applied pressure.

His response was short exclamations of pain, followed by a look of audacity at me.

I found the entire ordeal therapeutic.

"Where is it?" I asked, repeating Castiel's words as I applied a little more pressure.

"Oh! Gah! I don't know, I swear!" I let off on him slightly. "I had another angel hide it, even from me." I frowned, squeezing his leg again. Metatron yelped in pain. "You know, in case someone tries to torture the information out of me!" He jerked his head at me, and stared pointedly. "Case in point!"

"Where is my Grace?" Castiel asked.

"I told the angel to hide some clues in some of my favorite books." Metatron answered. I stood up and away from him, glancing over at Castiel as Metatron held up his handcuffed wrists. "Mother, may I?" He asked petulantly. Castiel rolled his eyes as the man limped over to a nearby shelf. He pulled out a book, and Castiel quickly took it from him. When he opened it, a note fell out. I picked it up, and read the words out loud.

"'What is the maddest thing a man can do?'" I asked, before looking over at Metatron.

"It's a riddle?" Castiel asked him. "What… What's the answer?" Metatron shrugged.

"Beats me." He answered. "I've only been a man a day. Um," he thought for a moment. "The answer to the riddle will lead to another book. And inside that book, you'll find your Grace. We're gonna work this out together, okay? Teamwork." Metatron said firmly, with a little nod. Castiel just glared at him as he started to roam the shelves once more. I followed Metatron's lead, trying to think of what book would have the answer to that question. Was it a reference to the title? A quote? A phrase the author had used for inspiration?

Castiel searched the shelves opposite of Metatron, and I opposite of him. We skimmed and looked for almost five minutes, silently, before Metatron spoke up again.

"You know, we really do make a good team. Kind of like a buddy comedy, without the comedy." Metatron pointed out.

"Or the buddies." Castiel responded, causing me to smirk.

"Oh now, come on. Back at the diner, that was some pretty awesome Three Musketeers action." Metatron argued. I glanced at the book in front of me, The Three Musketeers, and took it down to search for a moment.

"What we did back there was unfortunate. No more of our brothers and sisters should die." Castiel stated. I put the Three Musketeers back. Nothing useful in there.

"Brothers and sisters?" Metatron scoffed. "Listen to you. Still spitting out the company line like anyone cares. Like we're actually a family? When what we really are – are a bunch of glowing lights filled with self-loathing or delusions of grandeur. Or both." Metatron paused for a moment. "The only thing different is that you went all C.H., and the others are looking down on you like a priest on a child born out of wedlock."

"You shut up!" Castiel ordered. Metatron shook his head, defiant.

"No! If I'm gonna die, I want answers." He decided. "Like, who are you now? You're obviously not an angel of the Lord, nor will they ever let you return to being one now." I glanced over at Cas, and saw him stop, clenching his fists. "And what about all of this walking the earth like Caine from 'Kung Fu' crap? Cleaning up Heaven's messes. Trying to win back their favor because you can't protect your woman." I felt half-tempted to walk around and punch Metatron myself. Cas had already gotten in two good blows. Why couldn't I get in one?

"How many more rogue angels are there out there?" Metatron continued. "And, what are you gonna do once you're done with all that? Go back to Heaven?" I felt a twinge of fear at that possibility. "Please." I could almost hear Metatron's eye-roll. "The angel formerly known as Hannah has restored order up top. Smoothest it's run since God cut the ribbon on the pearly gates. So tell me, Castiel, truly, what is your mission now?" He asked. "Settle down with this human? Dump her for a life of drugs, sex, and rock n roll? What are you going to do now?"

Castiel didn't keep answer, just barked out an order for Metatron to stop talking and keep searching before he continued his own search.

"Well…" Metatron said, sounding… different. More assured. Something was wrong, I could almost feel it. "Can't say I didn't try."

I rounded the corner to face Castiel, and stopped. The pain was instant. He fell first to the floor, coughing up blood, and I followed suit. "Poor Castiel. Swam so far just to drown in shallow waters. Isn't it ironic? Don't ya think?" Metatron asked him before turning to me. "And you, I thought I saw a familiar mark there." He reached down and grabbed my hand, lifting it up. It was pulsating an ugly red again. "You bound your life force to Cas, didn't you? And look at that, he should be writhing on the ground in pain, screaming, but instead he's only getting half of the effect while you're getting the full deal." I fell from my hands, grasping at my abdomen and throat. "Let's call this a little payback for all the times I was forced to be quiet." He said, nodding slightly with it.

"Leave her be." Cas ordered, coughing up more blood. In turn, I did the same, and felt a small stream run from my nose with it.

"Would if I could, but in all honesty I can't and I really wouldn't." Metatron answered, rubbing his hands together as he turned away. "All right…First things first – find what I really came here for." I heard him pull a book off a shelf. "'What two things do you need to succeed in life?'" He asked. "Ignorance and confidence."

I recognized that one. Mark Twain.

"They're quotes." Castiel said, figuring it out as well.

"So, uh…did you and Samateur hour really think I wouldn't have a back-up plan?" I listened to Metatron walk over and pull another book off of a shelf. "Ah. Hello Demon Tablet!" He said, sounding triumphant. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Castiel reach up and knock another book off a nearby shelf. It was orange, with black swirls on it. It opened when it hit the floor, and something small and delicate clinked out of it. "The places I'll go with this!" Metatron continued, limping backwards. Castiel reached over to pick up what I could barely see was a small, glass container, glowing with a familiar light. Metatron rounded the shelf to see it too, and see Castiel holding it. "And your Grace." He shrugged. "Well, one out of two ain't bad. Don't burn your girlfriend out with it." With that, he limped away.

"What's the maddest thing a man can do?" Castiel asked. I felt another surge of pain hit, and fought back the urge to cry out. "Let himself die."

I saw him drink the contents out of the corner of my eye.

Then I white-lined, completely. There's no better way to describe it. My vision went white, a blinding and painful white that I couldn't tell if it was emanating from Castiel or from my own eyes. The pain intensified 1000-fold, a white-hot pain that went from burning to freezing and back more times than I could count, and that time I screamed. Or at least, tried to. There was white noise in my ears, and I couldn't hear if I was screaming or if the pain was so bad that it was like when you're being tickled so hard you try to laugh but no noise comes out, except this time I was in enough pain to last me at least the next hundred lifetimes.

Everything inside me was seared to white ash, or at least it felt like that. My hand was the worst, though. It felt as though my hand was stripping itself of it's skin, muscle, tendons, nerves, and bones while keeping them attached to my body, and then proceeding to expose them to the most extreme temperatures and tortures on the face of the planet.

Everything was white, and everything was pain.


	19. Flashes

I saw flashes, bits and pieces at a time. I heard someone screaming, but it was as though they were screaming in a vacuum. I knew it was happening, and I swear I heard it and felt it, but I couldn't hear the noise.

I was just aware of the action occurring, almost as though I could feel the sound waves against my skin and skull.

Cas was there, but he also wasn't. I saw an image in my mind, one that I can only describe as pure; so pure, I wasn't supposed to see it.

But I had seen it, and the image alone had been seared, for a moment, in to my eyes. Then it was gone, and I was only left with the memory of it.

Cas was there again, but my eyes weren't open. I saw him, I know I saw him, but I couldn't have, because my eyes weren't open. He was carrying me, sprinting somewhere, shouting more. Other voices joined his. Familiar people I couldn't see or place.

When a new hand was on my neck, checking my pulse, I could see it was Sam. My eyes were still closed, I was unconscious, but I could see Sam.

When his hand left, he disappeared, and Castiel was all that was left.

My hand felt thick and heavy, but only for a moment before I was swept to another point in time.

People were speaking, and I could hear them all clearly this time. Cas was somewhere nearby, as was Dean.

"Run me through it one more time, what happened?" Dean asked.

And Castiel explained. He explained how Metatron had done something with angelic sigils, and how I'd bound my life force to Castiel a while back. He explained how he thought it'd been burned out when he got the first bit of stolen grace, but that I'd lied.

And now… Now he knew for certain. He had his grace back, HIS grace, and he could feel it.

"An angel's grace prevents them from being bound like that." Castiel explained. "When I got my grace back, there was a lot of backlash that rebounded on to Kylie again. Similar to what happened last time, but more than likely infinitely worse. I can feel the magic she had cast," he paused for a second, thinking. "It was powerful. Very powerful, when born of desperation. When I received the stolen grace, it wasn't my own grace, and Kylie's magic was just powerful enough for it to still exist only because the grace wasn't mine, and therefore destined to fade out."

"But when you got your own grace," I heard Sam's voice chime in. "It belonged to you."

"Yes." Castiel said. "My grace expelled everything that didn't belong within me – the stolen grace, and the spell. Think of it as when you get sick, and your white blood cells attack the illness. My grace saw the spell as illness, and attacked it until it was expelled entirely." He paused again, and I could almost feel his gaze on me. "Because we were bound, it attacked Kylie in the same way."

"How are her eyes not burned out?" Charlie? Was that Charlie's voice?

What was Charlie doing here?

"Sorry, it's just in the books that tends to be what happens when a person gets too much angel grace in them." She explained. When she said that, I remembered Cas telling me about what had happened with the psychic, Pamela. She'd gotten a glimpse at his true visage, and her eyes had burned out.

Had I seen his true form for a moment?

"It's… It's something that most angels believed to be myth or legend." Castiel began to explain. As he spoke, his voice began to fade away, and I could no longer discern his words.

I tried to speak up, to call him back so I could hear more, but couldn't. It was as though I was floating, disconnected from the world around me and listening to it through a radio.

The radio got fuzzy, and I floated on to nothingness for a while, with bits and pieces of people coming in and out. Whoever grasped my hand or touched my head or double-checked my pulse, I could see. Every little bit I would hear the radio crackle to life again, with Charlie's voice ringing through reading… Was that The Hobbit?

Yep, that was Tolkien, alright. But that faded, too, with the radio floating away in to the darkness.

"Kylie." There was a new radio now, one that was broadcasting Castiel's voice loud and clear. "Kylie, I know you're in there. I can feel you in there." I felt a hand on mine, and I could see him, see Castiel. He was sitting down in a chair. "I know you're still alive. I'm trying to heal you, but I can't. I don't know why, maybe it's your magic or my grace still inside of you. But I can feel your consciousness in there." He sighed. "I don't want to lose you. I don't think I can lose you. Not again."

"We found Claire's mom." He started. "And she died. She died, because I couldn't be there in time. I watched the Grigori kill her, but I couldn't get to her in time, and all I could see for a moment was you." He shook his head. "I watched Claire's mother die and I could think and see was you in her place, because I know you would have done the same."

In the depths of my mind, I heard a scream, heard Castiel's voice in so much pain and desperation and…

His voice was so broken as he screamed the word "No."

"I know you would've stepped in front of the Grigori, stepped in between it and Claire. If you had been there I… I fear that you would have stepped in between, that you would've sacrificed yourself to save Claire and her mother."

I wanted to speak to him, but couldn't, and even then what would I say? Yes, I would've died to save your vessel's wife and kid? No, I wouldn't do that?

I knew which answer was true, and I knew neither response would make Castiel happy.

"Claire says hi." Castiel continued. "She wishes you well."

He let go of my hand, and disappeared from my mind. I wanted to scream out for him to come back, so I could speak, so I could tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry that I can't be awake right now to tell you all of this.

Just please forgive me, Castiel.

I can't lose you either.

I couldn't lose you in the first place.


	20. Dean Isn't Dean Anymore

I felt a rough and unfamiliar hand grab me, and the face I saw with it was one I didn't recognize; one I instantly didn't trust.

"Get up, girlie." The voice ordered, grabbing me with both hands. I woke up with a start, feeling full consciousness as I stared in the face of… A blonde southern guy that just felt wrong. I struggled, trying to pull away from him.

"Let me go." I ordered, trying to pull my arms away. I couldn't, though. His grip…

His arms and hands…

They didn't match up quite right, somehow. Like they didn't belong to him.

"How many girls do these guys keep around?" He asked, giving a bit of a hoot with it. I could feel his gaze looking me up and down before he pulled me out of the room.

"Let me go!" I shouted, trying to kick at him. He was too strong, though, and gripped my wrist so hard I felt like it was about to break.

"I wanna wait to watch his face." He told me, leaning in close. "So don't spoil this for me, honey, alright?"

"Who are you?!" I shouted, still working to pull away.

"That's not gonna matter in a few minutes, sweetheart." He answered before resuming pulling me out to the room with the B.A.M.T.

I saw a pile of books and Dean's things in the center, all smelling strongly of gasoline, with a scrawny looking kid standing next to it looking kind of nervous and nonchalant at the same time.

"Wait, wait, wait, who's she?" The kid asked, turning to look at me. I stared him down defiantly, still struggling against the stronger man, and the poor kid suddenly looked very afraid. "No. I don't want to hurt her too. You said we weren't going to hurt any people!"

"Come on, Cyrus!" The other man argued. "You act like a girl so much, you could upgrade and be one!"

"I don't want to do that, Eldon!" Cyrus stated, finally giving me a name for the man that held me.

But what in the hell were they talking about with upgrades?

"Where's Dean and Sam?" I asked, interrupting them. Eldon spoke, about to answer, when another unfamiliar man stumbled in.

"Roscoe?" Eldon asked. We all watched as Roscoe fell to the ground, a knife sticking out of his back. Dean walked in to the room a second later, and he looked like a different Dean.

He looked like the Dean I saw in the house, with Randy, right before he told me to get out.

"Well there he is." Eldon said, looking at me. "Can't say I can tell you where Sammy is, though." Eldon turned his attention to Dean. "I hope you brought marshmallows."

"Dean, what's going on?" I asked him, trying to bring him back in to focus. Eldon held me in front of him, my arms behind my back, like he was using me as a shield or a warning.

"Been looking for you." Dean stated. He wasn't talking to me, though. He was talking to Eldon.

"Oh yeah? Why is that? Oh wait. You're not still sore about um, what's her name?" Eldon asked.

"Charlie." Dean answered, and I felt my blood go cold. "Her name was Charlie."

"What happened to Charlie?" I asked, terrified. "Is Cas OK? Is Sam?"

"Yeah, well... Chuckie," Eldon kept talking, as though I wasn't even there. "She got what she deserved. Wanna know how I did her? It's a kinda funny story," I reared back, aiming to kick him in the groin or knee. When I connected and heard his grunt of pain, I smiled, but only for a moment. There was a sudden pressure on my shoulder, and I felt my arm come out of it's socket. I cried out in pain, only for a moment, and saw a flash of pure fear in Cyrus' eyes.

In Dean's, I saw nothing but fire and fury.

"Dean, listen to me," I tried to get any sort of words out, but Eldon applied pressure on my shoulder again, and I cut myself off to avoid a second exclamation of pain.

"No, Dean, listen to me." Eldon interjected. "This pretty little thing right here? I'm not just going to leave her in a bathtub like I did with Charlie, that would be a waste, and you know how my family hates being wasteful." He stated. I felt my gut twist at that, and wondered for a moment what the man was implying.

"Shut up." Dean ordered, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Straight to it, then." Eldon barked out a short laugh. "I respect that. See, you got lucky before. This time, I'm sporting some new upgrades. See my old man," this time, Dean cut him off.

"Your old man's dead." Dean stated. I felt Eldon's hands tighten slightly around my arms. They're all dead. So you can save me the speech on the three hearts, the two spleens, the seven nipples, for the ladies... or the fellas, I don't judge. But even with all that, you still only have one brain."

"So?" Eldon asked, adjusting his grip on me. His face was right next to mine, just enough so that he could see around me and look at Dean.

I heard the gunshot before I actually saw Dean's hand move, or his finger twitch. I felt a sharp bit of pain in the side of my face, and something liquid splatter on to that same side.

Eldon's grip on me loosened, and he fell backwards. I turned around and saw he was dead.

He had a bullet hole in his head, right where his face had been next to mine.

I looked back over at Dean, and saw he had a gun pointed at the Cyrus kid. "Dean, stop!" I told him. Dean kept his focus on the kid.

"Get behind me." He ordered me, still not looking. I didn't, just stood there, almost between them, as Cyrus pleaded for his life. I walked up and tried to take the gun from Dean, but he…

He grabbed me by my dislocated arm, and threw me off to the side.

I watched as he held the gun to the kid, and listened to Cyrus plead for his life.

I watched him answer, saying that it was in Cyrus' blood to be bad.

I watched Dean hesitate for a moment, just a moment, as the kid cried in front of him.

And I watched Dean pull the trigger, any trace of hesitation gone.

I sat there, shell-shocked, as Dean came over and forcibly helped me up. "You shot an innocent kid." I stated. Dean's only response was to jerk my arm, fast, shoving it back in it's socket.

"He would never have been an innocent kid." Dean answered.

Castiel came in through the door a minute later, and stared at the scene in horror. "Dean!" He shouted, looking between him and the dead bodies, then fixating on the blood on my face, before his gaze finally fell to rest upon the elder hunter. "What have you done?" He asked.

When Dean didn't answer, Castiel moved to kneel beside Cyrus' body for a moment.

"You killed them." He stated. I moved away from Dean, feeling something… something wrong again.

Dean still wasn't Dean.

Not anymore.

"I took down a monster." Dean corrected. "Because that's what I do. And I'll continue to do that until..."

"Until you become the monster." Castiel finished. Dean glared at him before speaking.

"You can leave now, Cas." Dean said dismissively, moving towards me quickly.. "And take your girlfriend with you." He pushed me none-too-kindly towards Cas, and he caught me with grace.

"Are you alright?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Something's wrong. I can feel it." I told Cas. "Dean needs help."

"I'm fine!" Dean argued. "Now, like I said, you two can go."

"No. I can't." Castiel argued. "Because I'm your friend."

"Really? Well let me ask you something. Do you screw over all your friends?" Dean asked. I looked at Cas, confused, and Dean let out a laugh. "Oh, this will be fun. Why not tell your witchy girlfriend how you've been talking to another witch," Dean offered, watching my reactions. "Or how you helped Sam get Charlie killed, all in the name of a damn spell that I don't want."

"Sam and I were trying to cure you!" Castiel argued. "We still are!"

"And what do you have to say about all of this, Kai?" Dean asked, saying my nickname like an insult. "How do you feel, knowing your boyfriend got Charlie dead by going behind his friend's back?"

"I think you're not in a good place right now, Dean." I answered cautiously. "I think you need people around you right now to help bring you back to earth before you do something you'll regret, and I think I'd rather hear the full story from everyone's point of view instead of just your angry one."

"Like hell." Dean scoffed.

"We can read the Book now." Castiel interjected.

"Oh so what? So you MIGHT find a spell that MIGHT take this crap off my arm?" He asked, motioning to the Mark. "Like Kai has been trying to this whole time? But even if you do, what's it gonna cost? Because magic like that does not come free. No, it comes with a price that you pay in blood. So thanks," Dean swooped his hands down once, shaking his head. "But I'm good."

Dean turned to leave, but Castiel grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"No! You're not." Castiel argued. "Maybe you could fight the Mark for years. Maybe centuries, like Cain did. But you cannot fight it forever. And when you finally turn, and you will turn... Sam, Kylie, and everyone you know, everyone you love... they could be long dead. Everyone except me." I could see pain in Castiel's eyes at the thought of that fate. "I'm the one who will have to watch you murder the world. So if there's even a small chance that we can save you, I won't let you walk out of this room."

"Oh, you think you have a choice." Dean smirked, shoving Castiel's hand off his shoulder.

"I think the Mark is changing you." Castiel answered.

"You're wrong."

"Am I?" Castiel asked. "Because the Dean Winchester I know would never have murdered that kid."

"Yeah well, that Dean's always been kind of a dick."

"That Dean was someone I looked up to and trusted." I spoke up. "That Dean that you think was a dick, that Dean is the same Dean that saved my life. That Dean is the same Dean that gave me a home, training, food, and a family. And you're not that Dean right now." I told him.

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged. "Maybe I shouldn't have ever done that either." I felt my chest drop and die, and watched Dean try to walk away once more. Castiel's grip was like iron, though, and he stopped Dean from moving.

"Dean," he cautioned. "I don't wanna have to hurt you."

Dean stilled, and I could see the exact moment that he made his decision; the exact moment when he differentiated friend from foe in the room, and decided to act accordingly.

"I don't think that's gonna be a problem." Dean stated.

Dean grabs Castiel's hand and wrenched it off of his shoulder, then swung for all he had with his free hand to punch Castiel square in the face. Cas rocked back, pushing me away from him and out of Dean's way.

"Dean." Castiel tried to get the words out, but Dean kept moving, kept punching Cas for all he had.

"Dean, stop!" I shouted, and…

I don't know what I did.

I put my hand out, facing Dean, and felt as though I was physically holding on to Dean when I wasn't even close enough to touch.

I shot my hand sideways, and Dean went flying in to the pile. While he was dazed, I ran over to Cas and helped him, making sure he was ok.

"We need to get out, now." I told him. He shook his head.

"Dean needs us."

"Dean needs to see himself for how bad he's being right now, but he's not in a good place to do that." I answered. "You pushing him isn't going to make it any better."

I felt Dean's hands on my arms, then, and he threw me hard. I felt my arm break as I slammed in to a nearby bookshelf, and my vision turned fuzzy and distorted.

Dean continued his onslaught on Castiel, throwing him to the floor as well. I tried to get up, to move and stop Dean, and watched as Castiel had the same idea. I saw the blood on his face, and moved faster.

"Dean, stop." Castiel pleaded. Dean, halfway to the doorway, turned to launch a new attack on Castiel, beating him up worse than before. I reached out a hand with my unbroken arm, feeling that same power again, but it was as though I couldn't get a grip on him this time.

I don't know how I knew, but I knew that it was the magic of the Mark. It was protecting him in his conquest – to brutally attack and possibly kill Castiel.

I made my choice in an instant, and charged at Dean. Before I could get to him, though, he stood up and reached out a hand.

His fingers wrapped around my throat like a vice grip, his other hand continuing it's attack on Castiel. When I took a glance at my boyfriend, I saw he was dazed and… possibly scared?

"You should've known better, witch." He warned me, throwing me off to the side again. My head hit the corner of the B.A.M.T. and I felt instantaneous pain.

I couldn't see straight anymore, but I watched as Dean reached in to Castiel's jacket and pulled out a familiar weapon.

An angelic blade.

"No, Dean. Please." Castiel begged. I listened as he coughed, and could just barely recognize the look of blood coming from the cough.

"Dean!" I tried to shout his name, but it came out pained and hoarse. "Dean, please." I closed my eyes, and fought to open them again. "Cas," I wasn't certain what I was saying with that, just that I wanted to say his name.

I heard a swish in the air, and the familiar schwick of metal impaling wood.

When I leaned my head to the side, I felt something metallic next to it; metallic and sharp. I moved my head away, and finally forced my eyes back open to look at the object in question.

It was an angel blade, Castiel's, embedded in the wood of the B.A.M.T.

"You and Kylie and Sam stay the hell away from me." Dean ordered. "And no trying to track me with her witch magic either. Or next time, I'll treat her like the monster she's becoming." He stared at me, somehow managing eye contact when I could barely hold his gaze. "And next time I won't miss."

Dean walked out the door to the Bunker without being stopped. Castiel crawled over to help me, placing a hand on my forehead. I felt warm, happily warm, and then everything was clear. My arm was no longer broken, and I was no longer dazed. "Are you alright?" He asked me. I shook my head, wrapping my arms around him.

"You?" I asked. His arms wound around me as well, and I could feel him shake his head.

"Dean tried to kill you." He said, his voice hard.

"He didn't try to kill me, or you. Just scare the both of us." I told him. From the way Castiel stiffened, though, I could tell he didn't believe me.

"Dean isn't Dean anymore." He stated, his voice cold and factual.


	21. Two Witches, An Angel, And A Hunter

As time went by Sam came back, and they both filled me in on everything that had happened. I'd been in some sort of coma as a result of the influx of angelic grace in my system. There was still residing power that wasn't completely gone, but we weren't sure as to the effects that it may have on me.

"Do you think that was how I threw Dean?" I asked. Castiel nodded.

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"Alright, then." I thought for a moment. "Do you think I could use it again?"

"I don't know." Castiel answered. "I can still detect it within you, but as to your capabilities in using it and how long it will be before the leftover grace is gone, I cannot say."

"Alright." I repeated the word, uncertain as to what else to say.

Sam and Castiel talked strategy as I went and looted through Dean's things for something I could use in a tracking spell, since Dean had effectively stopped any other methods that Sam could use to find him.

When Castiel saw what I was doing, he shook his head, carefully taking the pair of dirty socks I'd grabbed from me.

"What? They'd work." I pointed out.

"He said he'd kill you if you did." Castiel answered.

"Cas, it's Dean. He could never kill Kylie, or you." Sam reminded him. I shook my head.

"Sam, Dean beat Castiel to the ground. He broke my arm." I pointed out. "Dean may decide to not kill us, but that doesn't mean he would be against knocking the shit out of all of us again to make a point."

I left out the reminder that the last time the Mark had taken control of Dean, he actually HAD tried to kill all of us, both to gain freedom and simply because he could.

"What about Rowena?" Castiel asked. Sam thought about that for a moment. I knew who Rowena was, though I hadn't met her yet. "She could easily do a tracking spell, or since the codex is now readable she could get the Mark off Dean's arm."

"If it's a spell, I could do it." I offered, wanting to be helpful. This time, Sam shook his head.

"This is going to be powerful magic, Kylie." Sam answered. "And there's always a price to pay with that kind of magic."

"I know. I could still do something to help."

"You don't want to do this." Castiel said, shaking his head. "I promise you, Kylie, the cost of this would be something that you would not be able to live with."

"Then what makes you so sure Rowena will do it?" I countered.

"Because she's a heartless bitch and hates her own son." Sam replied. I was confused on that one. A son?

"She has a kid?" I asked.

I think that was when Sam and Cas realized that there was a piece to this puzzle I wasn't quite seeing.

"Yeah." Sam answered. "Crowley."

Shit.

I remembered hearing my own voice, angry, sneering at the demon.

"Asshole." I'd muttered before following him. "I bet your own mother hated you as a kid."

"Well, that explains a surprising amount, actually." I said. "The King of Hell with mommy issues. Who would've thought?"

"In any case, Cas is right." Sam said. "Rowena is our best bet at this point."

"Are you alright to come with us?" Castiel asked. I nodded, grasping his hand lightly. He squeezed mine back in return.

So I went with them to visit the witch, and stood quietly beside Castiel as Sam held a gun to Rowena's head.

"Hello, boys." Rowena said casually, sipping her tea from a styrofoam cup. "Who is this new lassie? You're all just in time for tea… unless you have something else on your mind?"

"Five things, actually." Sam said, cocking the gun. "Hollow tips filled with witch-killing brew."

I wondered briefly if the witch-killing brew would kill me too.

"How exciting for you." Rowena cooed. "Your NRA will be beside themselves with pride."

"No more games, Rowena." Sam demanded. "Do the spell now."

"Or what exactly?" Rowena asked. Sam just glanced at his gun. "Come on, Samuel!" Rowena exclaimed, standing. "You and I both know that's nothing but a bluff. Charlie may have cracked the codex, but who's going to read it if I'm gone? Your newborn, barely-trained witch?" She asked, pointing at me. Castiel's grip on my hand tightened slightly. "Oh yes, I could tell. I can feel her power, as well as her lack of proper training. And with that, who among you has had the training for handling the ingredients, getting the measurements just right?" She raised her chin, defiant. "Unless, of course, either of you three have spent years of your life studying with the greats, mastering the intricacies of high witchcraft?" When nobody answered, she sat down and continued. "But forgive me. Maybe you have." She took a glance at me. "At least she has some practice."

"Leave her out of this." Castiel demanded. Rowena clucked her tongue at him before turning back to Sam.

"I know you're upset. We all are. Poor Dean…" She shook her head, and took another sip of her tea. "Let's just have a nice wee cup of tea... and negotiate."

Oh yeah, I could definitely see how Crowley was her son now.

Sam uncocked his gun, and came around the table. "What do you want?"

"Oh, well, we know what I wanted, except for her maybe." She motioned to me. "But you soiled the sheets on that one, didn't you Sam?" I knew what she was talking about. Sam had told me, and I'd actually been disappointed it hadn't worked. "Let's talk about what I'll take," Rowena offered. "My freedom guaranteed and the codex."

"Sam, you can't be," Castiel started to say, but Sam ignored him.

"Do you know which spell?" The Hunter asked.

"I do."

"Sam, this is a mistake." Castiel warned. Rowena just rolled her eyes.

"What do you have against this, angel? You've already enjoyed time with your own witch, and have no problems with her running around." She said. "Why not me as well, except that I'll actually be more useful than…" She paused, looking at me. "I'm sorry, dearie, I didn't catch your name."

"Kai." I answered, giving her the nickname I was used to.

"Kai. Lovely to meet you." She extended a hand, but I made no move to take it.

So they talked, Rowena and Sam and Cas, trying to figure out the ingredients as I listened quietly. When Sam left to take care of Dean, Castiel turned to me.

"Do you want to watch Rowena or come with me?" He asked.

"Depends. Where are you going?" I asked.

"I'm going to ask Crowley for assistance." He answered honestly.

"I'll stay and watch Rowena, then." I promised. "Make sure she doesn't try to pull anything."

"Alright." Castiel said with a nod. He kissed me quickly. "When this is over, you and I are doing something."

"What?" I asked, curious. Castiel just smiled at me, and pressed something small and metallic in my hand.

"It's a surprise." He explained. "Keep this, for now. When this is all over, I'll show you."

I heard a flap of wings, and he was gone. I looked at the object in my hand, and saw that it was a small key, like to a door or box or something. I slipped it in to my pocket, smiling a little.

"So, Kylie," Rowena said, gaining my attention. I turned in slight surprise. "Charlie told me your name." She explained. "It's wonderful to meet you. I can absolutely feel the power oozing from you. Tell me, was your mam a witch as well?" She inquired, continuing to drink her tea.

I didn't answer, just took a seat across from her instead.

"Ah, the silent treatment. You've worked to learn from those boys, haven't you?" She asked. "Well, then, let me share some information with you, girl to girl." She leaned in a little. "You can't trust men, nor their promises. And whatever surprise or idea that the angel may have in your head, or whatever future you think he will share with you," she shook her head, leaning back. "It's not going to happen, sweetie. And then witchcraft will be all that you have left."

"Not to be rude," I said, breaking my silence. "But I honestly don't believe you."

"Well, tell me this, then," she said, changing tactics. "Is Castiel immortal?"

"Yes." I left out the part about the angel blade.

"And are you?"

I thought back to what Castiel had said to Dean. "Sam, Kylie, and everyone you know, everyone you love... they could be long dead. Everyone except me."

One day, I would die, and that would be the end. I'd be dead and that would be it. I'd age, get older than Castiel's vessel unless hunting took me out early, and that would be that.

And Castiel knew that.

Castiel knew that that was his future with me. A blink of an eye for him, in exchange for my eternity.

When I didn't answer, Rowena shrugged. "I'm sorry, lassie. I don't want to be the one to break your heart, but it's better to know now, isn't it?" She asked. After a few moments, she started talking again. "Of course, as a trained witch, you don't have to die either."

"You and your son are far too much alike." I stated, deflecting the incoming deal. She just scoffed at my words.

"Please. Where do you think he learned?" She asked, shaking her head. "And yet he still needs so much improvement, he'll never be as good as you could be. He won't die, either, but you could still be better than him." She motioned to her eyes for a minute. "Without the black and red bits."

"Make your sales pitch if you want, but I'm not going for it." I warned her up front.

"Fine, I won't say another word, then." She said, looking away. "I just wanted to offer you better training, since every budding witch needs a tutor. But if that's not what your heart wants, then I'll leave you to your petty small spells that are a true waste of your talent."

I didn't give her the satisfaction of a response, just waited for Castiel to come back. And he did, with Crowley in tow bragging about how difficult it was to get the items for the spell.


	22. The Price of Magic

When I watched Rowena kill Oskar, I flinched. Castiel's arm was around me at that point, and he held me just a little closer to him.

He had been right. Magic has a price.

That was the price I'd offered to pay.

I was glad, now, that it was Rowena casting the spell instead of I.

I was glad up until the point she cast the spell on all of us, freezing us in place, then specified a specific spell on Castiel.

 _Impetus Bestiarum._

Loosely translated in to animal attack, or attack dog.

I'd read about that particular spell. There wasn't a good way to cure him of it, not easily. Castiel doubled over in pain, and I fought to try and move and help him as she continued to speak.

"I'm afraid, Fergus, that in all your long life, you've never seen what a real witch can do with real magic. I'm terrifically pleased it's the last thing you'll ever see." She commented to the demon, before turning to me. "Consider this your first lesson in real magic, dearie. If you survive, find me. You really do have the makings of a great witch." With that, she raised a finger, and pointed at Crowley first. "Dele," she moved her finger to point at me. "Malum," she moved it again to point at Castiel, who was still in so much pain. "Hoc."

 _Dele malum hoc._

 _Destroy this evil._

Destroy Crowley and myself. As she walked out of the room, I felt myself regain control of my legs. "Cas, are you ok?" I asked, not moving from him. He was still doubled over in pain, groaning like…

Like an animal.

"Castiel, don't," Crowley warned. Castiel growled, then, and roughly shoved me off to the side as he stood up straight. I stumbled back multiple feet and fell, hitting my head hard on the concrete. I watched Cas unsheathe his angel blade, and begin to advance upon the demon. "Do NOT!" Crowley shouted at the angel. He struggled, trying to back away from Castiel's advances, but couldn't. For some reason, the spell that had kept all of our legs locked was still on him.

Rowena had wanted to ensure he'd died, and I was just an either-or bonus.

"Don't! Please!" Castiel begged.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I acknowledged that this was the first time I'd ever heard a demon actually plead for their life, and with an angel no less.

Crowley stood there, unable to run, as Castiel continued to advance.

I watched Castiel stab down at Crowley, but not before his smoke quietly escaped. Castiel didn't seem to notice or care, though. He just turned on to me, next.

"Cas?" I asked, starting to rise. His eyes were bleeding and red, and he was panting like a wild animal. "Castiel?" He stood there for a moment, stiff as a board, watching me. His eyes were still red, still bleeding, but now they were filled with absolute hatred. Absolute fury. Absolute surety that I was going to be dead next.

Archangels are fierce. Archangels are powerful. Archangels are heaven's most terrifying weapon

I could truly understand now why they said that. I knew Castiel was not an archangel, even though he wielded the blade of one. But in that moment he could easily have passed as an archangel, purely from the righteous wrath that was just staring me down alone.

I didn't have a moment to think. To breathe. To say his name.

He was on me, then, attacking with all the fury I would ever expect from an angel. Slicing, punching, kicking, and I was doing all I could to block and not hurt him. I blocked his blade with my own, then jumped back as he kicked out at me. I was moving backwards, and easily running out of room. There was a concrete wall behind me, and I was going to lose the room to defend myself with if he backed me in to it too quickly, if he stayed too close.

I jumped back quickly, feeling in my pockets for anything to throw. I found a pen, and hoped it would work.

I threw it at Castiel's head, and the second his hands went up to block I threw myself between his legs, rolling several yards away before I hopped back up. He had gotten in a quick downward slash, though, and I felt the pain in my leg from an archangel's blade. It was searing fire, liquidating me from the inside out for just a moment. I screamed an awful cry, but kept moving. This would leave an ugly scar no matter what happened.

Castiel was advancing quickly again. I moved backwards, hoping that the stairs up to the door were behind me, but I didn't see the body. I didn't see Crowley's body behind me, and tripped backwards over it.

There was blood on the back of my shirt and pants. I could feel it. I could see hole from Castiel's blade out of the corner of my eye, and more blood seeping from the wound. In the back of my mind, I hoped and prayed the same wouldn't happen to me.

I scrabbled backwards as fast as I could, trying to get back up, but it was too late. Castiel hauled me up, and threw me in to the railing of the stairs. My head clanged hard with the metal as my back did the concrete, and the metallic scent of blood flooded my nostrils. Whether it was mine or Crowley's that now covered my back half, I couldn't tell.

I felt through my pockets for something else to throw, my knife no longer in my hands. It had fallen when I'd been thrown, and I could just barely see it being too far away for me to reach. I leaned forwards fast to grab the spare knife I kept in my shoe, simple and iron and absolutely useless against an angel, but hopefully good enough to block Castiel's attacks. As I brought it up to connect it with Castiel's downward-swooping blade, I felt rather than saw his foot connect with my ribs. There would be ugly bruises later. Ugly bruises and probably some broken bones.

I curled in to a ball, trying to protect my broken ribs. He just grabbed my hair, kneeing me first in the face, then yanking on my hair to slam my head in to the edge of the concrete stairs behind me. I cried out in pain, fighting the instinct to fight back, to hurt him and let myself escape. This was Cas, my Cas. He wouldn't do this to me. This wasn't his fault. My Cas would come back to me. My Cas would help me, stop this, be there.

But my Cas wasn't there at the moment.

Instead there was an awful, cruel version of him in my Cas's place, with red pupils and red eyes rimmed with white that was barely there. My Cas was looking down on me not with love or happiness, but instead with absolute fury and determination.

"Cas," I tried, spitting out the blood that was falling from my nose and split lip. I could feel blood everywhere, now. Blood under my shoes. Blood on my back. Blood in my hair, my face, it was covering myself and Castiel. My attempt at his name made no impact, though. He just yanked my hair to the side once more, flinging me sideways to the ground. I tried to get up, and felt another kick to my mostly uninjured side. Snaps were heard, and I howled Castiel's name in pain. "PLEASE!" I kept trying, kept trying not to cry from pain, kept trying not to black out. I had to stay alive. I had to make sure Cas was ok. I… I…

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to die, and I didn't want to hurt the person attacking me.

What do you do in a situation like that, where the one person you love most in the world is the one beating the tar out of you, the one that's deaf to your pain and blind to your cries for his aide, unable to sense that you love him and can't lift a hand to defend yourself for fear of hurting him?

What do you do then?

I didn't get an answer to my question. Instead Castiel sat on my stomach and broken ribs, his knees close and tight on either side of me as he pinned me in place. I tried to struggle, kicking and kneeing at his back, but he simply shifted himself backwards until I couldn't kick at him. Then he grabbed my shirtfront, pulled my chest up, and just started punching. I felt the skin on my eyebrow split, my other eye swell, and a tooth fall out somewhere. Blood was filling my mouth. I was almost choking on it. Bits of hair were gone now, their roots ripped cleanly off. My legs were bruised from the full pressure of Castiel's body weight on me.

I couldn't think well.

I'd started to go numb from shock. I couldn't feel any injuries that weren't being created in the moment anymore.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't fight.

"Cas," I said weakly as he finished his assault on my face. I felt numb. Very numb. I couldn't see straight, see clear lines. Everything was so fuzzy and confusing, but Castiel's face was sharper than a photograph. That face, those eyes, so much cruelty on my Castiel. So much hatred for me.

I could feel his hands wrap tightly around my neck and just squeeze. I coughed. I tried kicking again and just felt his heel connect with my calf. I tried to grab his hands, to lash out, and he simply adjusted his grip so he was choking me with one hand and holding my wrists above my head tight with the other. Everything was bruised. Everything was bleeding. Everything was breaking.

My heart was breaking inside.

I smelled the blood and sweat and dirt. I tasted it all. I felt Castiel's red eyes just keep staring in to me with a mixture of fury and… and sadistic glee, now.

"Cas," I choked out one last time. "Please." Please hear me. Please stop. Please come back. Please let the spell wear off.

Please, let something else happen.

Magic had a price, after all. This was the price for Dean's freedom from the Mark, for making a deal with Rowena, for a lot of things.

Magic had a price, and I was about to pay it.


	23. End Letter

Hey, guys! It's WriKai again! So, yes, we are at the conclusion of this installation (sorry it took so long to finish! Life happens sometimes, you know?), and I am still so happy to have people continually reading these and seeing what's new.

The next installation will be called "Darkness Descends," and I've already started working on it but don't know when I'll have the first chapter up. Let's shoot for somewhere in the Thursday-Saturday range, so be on the lookout for that!

Thank you all still for reading these stories, and I hope you all still enjoy them!


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